Making of MadQueen
by HermioneeBlack
Summary: Every one can go mad, given enough incentive. rest, read and find. it's jon/sansa, not quite anti Dany, but in that vibe. mix of show and book. A bit of super stark galore..
1. chapter 1

Sansa has known the moment she has seen dragon queen, that she can not be allowed to have Jon. It felt too much like losing him to a better version of Cersei Lannister.

Sansa has given up too many of her dreams, too many of her morals, too much of herself to just scoot over and let her family, her home or her freedom to be taken away again. She skulked about second floor as noiselessly as she did in red keep. Tried to avoid every one's gaze, lest they discern her anger.

Sansa stayed away from touching family reunion that did nothing but remind her she is the least loved sibling among Ned Stark's children.

She could understand why that is. She has been awful in the past. She can easily forgive Arya for being beloved little sister, Bran, cherished baby brother, but she will rather die than let Jon be seduced by Daenerys targaryen of all people.

Thus, she skulked about in forgotten corridors, stealing glances, staying out of general eye sight, yet keeping busy. How could she turn him away from dragon queen?

Daenerys Targaryen is the prettiest woman she has ever seen. A Lady needs to be just as beautiful, if not more to even draw Jon's eye away from dragon queen. She is not even sure just beauty will be enough to turn Jon's head.

She despaired as she put one woman after another against the queen and all of them fell short. It is then Jon's eyes met hers across the hall and she smiled involuntarily at him. Jon smiled back looking apologetic and happy at the same time.

The dragon queen glanced at him all of a sudden, then followed his gaze to Sansa. she smiled politely at her, nodding towards her. Sansa nodded back equally politely. She left the hall before she could be approached, either by Jon or the queen. As she fled from great-hall, she saw Jon turn towards her from the corner of her eye.

Then it came to her, as if lighting a torch in the dark night. There's only one other woman that has drawn her brother's eye, other than dragon queen. Sansa herself.

While she probably is not more beautiful than dragon queen, she is almost as beautiful. Comparable, at the very least. How ever, he is my brother, she thought furiously. I am no Cersei Lannister. she told herself.

Her very victory is not becoming bitter like Cersei. More she rejected the idea, more firmly it has taken root in her mind. It is then Sansa had an epiphany.

Monsters have a taste for Sansa Stark, Sansa Stark has a taste for monsters. Sansa always believed it is because she is easy prey. She is wrong. It is because a monster lurked deep within her and all monstrous people she met saw straight to her core, seen her for the wicked monster that she could be.

They knew, while not immediately, sooner than later, she will be just like them. She has always known this deep in her heart. She ran from the fact from as long as she can, she could not anymore. Knowledge, once known, however much we wish otherwise, can not be unknown.

* * *

Sansa almost chickened out at every turn and corner as she made her way towards hot springs. The last one was particularly hard, as she shed down to her small clothes. Her original plan was to shed them too, but she could not bring herself to do it. By the time she entered the hot springs, she only has her shift on.

This is not how she imagined her entrance. For all her scheming skills, new realizations about her inner monster, she is pants at seducing. Jon yelped upon seeing her.

"Sansa! I am not decent." he said sinking deeper into water.

Sansa's contingency plan involved taking off her shift to reveal her naked body, slowly sashaying to him. All those plans went out of window once she has seen his face. What the hell was she thinking, believing she can seduce Jon?

He is as honorable as they come. Worse yet, her body is riddled with scars, there is no way it's more beautiful than Dragon queen. She sighed. Since her seduction plan sank right to the bottom of hot springs, She decided may as well take a bath. She must have momentarily gone mad to think it even possible.

"I know." she said, slowly easing herself into water, shift and all.

She eased the wet garment off her body, placed it on one of the it will be dry by the time she finished bathing. She slowly eased back onto a stone, let the hot water soothe her tired muscles. As she did so, she looked at Jon. He is still watching her with the same bewildered expression, which is slowly turning into uncomfortable. Sansa felt tired of all the deceit and schemes all of a sudden. What is the point of being in home if she had to stay on guard and on top of her game all the time? Jon is family. She will show her true self, he deserved nothing less. If he runs, so be it. She is daughter of Ned Stark, she will be no less honest than her own father with her family.

"I came here to seduce you." she told him.

Jon's expression shifted from bewildered to incredulity now.

"Then I realized how stupid that idea is." she added lightly.

"I don't think I heard you correctly." Jon asked, tilting his head to the side, pulling on his ear as if to dislodge something from it.

He could not radiate incredulity more if he action is so purely Jon of old times, Sansa cracked a smile.

"No, you did not hear me wrong. I came here to seduce you, but now I just want to bathe. I will surely not get this much time to myself again. " Sansa said, her eyes closed, enjoying feeling of hot water on her skin after so much of cold.

She has been well and truly tired before coming here. She let her hands float on to top of water, moved them around, creating ripples around her.

Jon still stood there gaping at her. The water did strange things to her cleavage, in light of candles, Sansa looked like a goddess. Jon is already having hard time controlling himself. If Sansa continued moaning like that, sister or not, he is going to snap. He moved to leave before this can get ugly.

"Don't go." Sansa ordered without even opening her eyes.

Jon Stopped involuntarily. Sometimes it scared him, this power she has over him. He could see her expression clearly, though she probably thought he could not see a single thing. Sansa is bracing herself for rejection. She opened her eyes after a moment.

"I dismissed the guards. Told them you will be here to guard me if needed." she stumbled over her explanation, even as Jon went back to where he was.

"I am your brother, Sansa." he said, addressing her earlier words. We are not Lannisters nor Targaryens, the words remain unsaid.

"You are my half brother Jon. Even Starks married half brother to half sister before." Sansa said, sidling up to him, laying her head on his shoulder.

"I know what you mean though. we are still children of father." she added.

Jon did not speak. There is no point. There is definitely something Sansa wanted to tell him and she will in her own time. However, he is a hot blooded young man. All his senses are ridiculously heightened, he will not be able to stay here long doing nothing, if Sansa continued to drape herself all over him like this.

"I saw the way dragon queen is looking at you. I saw the way you are looking at her. Don't deny it. It may or may not be love, but you feel something for each other. If not for this war, I think she would have already asked for your hand. I will not stop you from love. We need every last bit of it, if we are to survive this winter. When you have a family of your own, what is to become of us? Of Starks? Of Winterfell? We do not know if Bran can have children, I will not force Arya into marriage. That will be a disaster we do not need at the moment." Sansa stopped here, and gazed at him. Jon could read what she did not say. That only leaves you and me.

"Is .. there some one?" Jon asked slowly. He had no idea why the thought filled him with such rage and feeling of loss.

"You are the only man I will ever love." Sansa said. It is not a confession, just a statement of the fact. So matter of factly, in fact, Jon almost thought she is japing, until he saw her face. Then it dawned on him this is one time Sansa is being absolutely honest with him. Why now, of all times? he asked himself.

why is she saying these words now? he could never look at her the same way again, not any more, after knowing the truth of her heart. He would have been better off not knowing. He had Dany now. He would have latched on to these words like a parched man otherwise. He so desperately needed something good in his life. Loving his sister is … not good. That's how Lannisters got into this mess. Hell, that's how Targaryens got into this mess too. Now, when it is most inopportune for him to even think of acting on her feelings, she is telling him. Why?

He will never be able to marry her. She will never be able to marry him. The conditions are not so dire that northern lords will forgive marrying half brother to half sister, especially when one of them is king who bent the knee.

A part of him desperately wanted to beg her to take back her words, just so he could prove he is every bit as honorable as his father, while another almost forgotten part of him roared into life at knowing Sansa liked him as a man. Jon always had difficulty seeing her as his sister, given he is not close to her at all as a child. After castle Black, How much ever they tried to regard each other as a sibling, there's always an undercurrent of something between them. They both tried their damndest not to name it, not to address it, hell not even see it. So it remained there, between them, smouldering like a fire made of wet wood, not enough heat to call a fire, too much smoke to ignore it as nothing. Now, Sansa has put a name on it, there's no way to ignore the blaze. No way to ignore the passion he felt for her. Heedless of turmoil on his mind, Sansa continued on.

"I had been a foolish and stupid girl once. Life taught me so many painful lessons, I have given up all dreams. Now that I have given up all my dreams, I have no hope left."

"That is not true, Sansa." Jon tried to desperately convince her. Yet, he could not add any more words other than the blunt denial. How could he? The army of dead is coming for them. Aye, they now have two dragons and a passing Army, but it did not give them great odds. He has seen few young men in his time as commander. Not ollie, but others, who gave in to darkness, lived on the edge so near to death, just so it can take them one day. He thought it's a state of affairs specific to men, seemingly not. Mad crows, they used to call them. Yes, that is it. the fight for their home has been so hard, Sansa has just broken when she realized they could still lose. How could this behavior be explained otherwise? Sansa is the most proper of all his siblings. Lady Catelyn will turn in her grave if she saw Sansa now, enticing her bastard half brother.

"I don't have to find love. I don't want to find love. I wanted something special, like what mother and father had. I can't have that anymore. I am much too broken for that…" Sansa choked up even as she said the words. Then she gathered herself and continued.

"All I need is a moment, a moment I can look upon in years to come and say, for that moment alone, I have lived and I have loved. Something warm and pure, to brace against during long winter. I don't think I will survive this winter otherwise." Sansa finished earnestly, laying her head back again on his shoulder. There is hot water running down his shoulder.

Jon knew even with all the heat in the springs they are tears. Then he came to a decision. He turned towards her slowly, took her face into his hands. Then he taught Sansa Stark what a true kiss feels like, for as long as he can.

They both parted from the kiss only to breathe. Sansa's blue eyes shone with an eerie silver light, whereas Jon's dark grey eyes gleamed even darker, almost as if they are letting out his inner beast.

"we should stop here." Sansa is the one to speak of the sense. Yet she made no effort to move away.

"We are supposed to stop here." Jon added, tightening his hold on her.

They both considered the other person curiously, as if they did not for the life of them understand why they said what they did, and why they did what they did. At the moment, indeed they can not understand the other person. Sansa, for the life of her, could not understand how she is actually succeeding. Jon, for the life of him, could not understand why Sansa is actually letting him do all he is doing to her.

"You are in love with dragon queen. You may even marry her." Sansa said.

"You are my sister. we are not Lannisters." Jon said.

"Night king is coming for us. all of us may not live that long any which way." Sansa quipped.

"All doom and gloom... So befitting of Starks." Jon said most solemnly.

then their eyes met, they both laughed and retreated to the edge of the pool, to rest against it. Just like that, the charged air broke and easy comfort they built returned. they stayed silent, far from each other, just reveling each other's presence.

"I still want to do it. I want to know what making love feels like." Sansa said all of a sudden.

"There's no coming back if we do so." Jon said, looking into her eyes seriously.

the very air between them felt electric. Almost as if there's something otherworldly in the air, inspiring wickedness and debauchery. Yet, in hidden depths of their hearts, both of them couldn't feel more right. While their heads screamed alarms and warnings, their hearts couldn't be more eager.

Sansa thought for a moment. she has truly deliberated over it. Then she answered Jon's Question and warning.

"Growing up, as a girl, my favorite song is Florian and Jonquil. I loved romance of that song. I understood naught of their pain, nor the wrongfulness of the deed. Now, I know better. I would rather be Florian, who takes the kiss from Jonquil. For even if entire world curses him and what he's done, he still has the memory of Jonquil's kiss to live by." Sansa answered seriously.

"Am I the innocent maiden now?" Jon smiled lopsidedly at her.

"Jonquil's no innocent maiden. She has Florian's youth, her lord husband's wealth at the end of it all. If any one's cursed, it's Florian, for he will never find the happiness or glorious release he found with Jonquil again." Sansa answered back.

"Doesn't excuse their behavior though." Jon said, even as his hands caressed her waist.

"Aye, it doesn't. Funny thing about behaviors. The more power you have, more outrageous behavior is forgiven." Sansa added darkly, thinking of Cersei. it is almost enough to kill the mood, but it did not.

Jon is already sucking on her neck, how much ever she wanted to resist the feeling to continue her tirade, she couldn't help but moan in pleasure.

Jon pulled back and smiled at her.

"You did that purposefully." Sansa glared at him in mock anger.

"Aye." Jon answered, even as he caught her lips in a kiss.

Sansa definitely had a witty comeback, but she could not remember what it is any more.

They kissed each other slowly and languidly, as if they have all the time in the world. Jon continued trailing a line of kisses down her throat, between her breasts, then further down yet. Before Sansa could so much as predict what he is doing, he lifted her up and sat her on a ledge.

He spread her legs apart, even as she tried to close them. He nuzzled between her thighs, in her womanly place, then turned his face and sucked at her inner thigh. Sansa, for the first time, felt an inexplicable need for something, anything to be touching her between her legs. Even as she brought up her hands down there, Jon caught hold of her hands and pulled them to the side. Sansa couldn't help but buck her hips up, in hopes of it alleviating the infernal need she is feeling. Jon stopped what he is doing and looked up at her, his eyes full of mischief. Sansa glared at him in response. Then he slowly ran a finger over her clit. Sansa trembled in response.

She is not a stranger to fingers in or over her clit. Ramsay did enough of that. Yet, the sensation is utterly different. Sex is a double edged sword, she understood now. This can be used to give a woman as much pleasure, as it can be used to give pain. Jon, it seems, is a master at giving such pleasure. Sansa let herself go and enjoyed the feeling shamelessly. Jon grabbed her by waist and lowered her into the water. Sansa looped her legs around him, grabbed his cock and guided it to her center. It is Jon's turn to moan, as she guided him to bury to the hilt inside her. It completed a part of 's like peace that she has not felt for a long time, like a freedom she has never been brave enough to grasp.

Their eyes met as Jon sank into her. She has never seen his eyes this close. It is like black flames racing towards edges on a winter sky. Forever running towards edges, with unparalleled ferocity, only to be frozen and fall back to the burning volcano in the center only to start all over, in a hypnotic repetitive cycle. Jon looked at Sansa's eyes equally captivated, by the intricate circle of silver and deep blue intertwined like rivers and glaciers each nudging other to an intricate and ever moving knot. Like moths drawn to a flame, they both leaned towards each other catching other's lips in a kiss.

Their tongues danced together, just as their bodies did, meeting and separating only to meet again with more ardour. Jon's hands roamed around Sansa's skin, trying to feel every inch of it, while Sansa's did the same. They came at the same time, her muscles clenching at him, her legs tightening around his hips, even as he thrust deeper into her. Jon did not even notice he spilled inside her in the high. They both continued kissing other, they separated only when both of them lost ability to stand.

They laid besides each other in post coital bliss. They could have spoken, yet, speech will only break the magic in the air. So, they did not. They both lied on the rough stone ledge, half in embrace, as their bodies sang in sweet relief. Sansa lied wide awake, with Jon's arm as pillow, while Jon dozed off with his hand still on Sansa's waist.

Sansa is thrumming with too much energy to fall asleep. It is as if she can feel the entire world around her, all of it's fluttering heartbeats felt by her. She let herself go, and let herself feel. As walls she has built around her heart crumbled, so did the walls around her mind. For the first time in her life, Sansa let herself view the world as is. It is glorious.

* * *

She could see the snow falling gently on walls of winterfell, hear the guards on night shift shuffling. She could feel the rustling water in the pipes, making sucking noises as they go up. She could see the moonlight reflected in the pool under heart-tree. She could feel the despair of a mother shrouded in darkness and snow. 'No' Sansa told the mother. 'Survive' she commanded. She had no idea how, but she knew that command will be heeded. Happy that she saved someone, she moved on, only to open her eyes and look at what looked like a white fluffy snow. A strong icicle in the wind seemed to be coming just for her, but Sansa swatted away at it mentally. No cold will touch her or her subjects to day. She is too warm, feeling too glorious for that.

Jon opened his eyes soon after, they made love to each other again, this time, even more slowly, remembering every scar, every groove in other's body that can bring them pleasure. They spoke no more on the act or how it made them feel, for putting into words is impossible. One can use thousands of words, still fall short in describing the bliss they felt. They both fell asleep on the stone ledge together.

Sansa is the first to awaken between them. She directed Jon to his rooms. She herself made her way to Arya's. She has a whole lot of things to say to her sister. If she missed the timing, she will loose lot more than just her home and family now. True to her training, Arya is awake before Sansa could so much as step a foot in her room. She looked up at Sansa, her very expression asking her sister what the fuck she is doing here, just as rudely if she were to voice it, as only Arya can.

"You once asked me who I am." Sansa said in answer.

Arya's expression couldn't express 'can't you find the fucking answer in the morning' better if she tried. That, more than anything emboldened Sansa. This is the Arya she knew. This is Arya her sister.

"I am a Stark of winterfell." Sansa told her.

Arya raised her eyebrows at her.

"I am Stark of winterfell. There is no hardship above me, there is no deed below me. I will see me and mine through this winter and all the winters to come. This I vow, as Stark of winterfell." Sansa told her with her eyes shining with determination.

Just like that, Arya understood. Her sister has done what she thought to be impossible once more. The world has chipped away at Sansa Stark, broken her into thousand little pieces, scattered them away in thousand different places. Sansa gathered all thousand little pieces, forged them into a person once more through sheer will. Yes, she is like a broken doll with thousand cracks and sharp edges, yet, she is whole. She is Princess Sansa, once more. Not Little doe, not Alayne but Sansa Stark. Then Arya corrected herself. Not princess Sansa, but queen Sansa.

"A truth." she said.

Sansa waited for her to say more, but Arya did not. She sat there, in her bed, quietly contemplating her sister. When she realized Arya is not going to speak more, she settled down on bed opposite side Arya.

"I have come here for advice and assistance." she told her.

"Anything for you, your grace." Arya answered back.

"Your grace?!" Sansa asked in surprise.

"You are a princess in your own right." Arya answered cheekily.

The conversation almost felt like treason, but consequences otherwise will be far worse. Or, so Sansa believed any way. Sansa knows Arya wouldn't betray her, not even to Jon. Thus, she continued. At the end of it all, all Arya did is thank her for coming to her. No more, no less. However, Sansa knows Arya will follow through with her plan, even if she is far more loyal to Jon than her.

* * *

Jon is informed at hour of bat that all the lords are ready and waiting for him in great hall. It struck him odd that they were able to assemble and be ready for him at such an early hour, almost as soon as he asked. The uneasiness only grew as he approached the congregation. He could sense there is something or someone else at play here, but for the life of him, couldn't pinpoint who. He could only play by the ear, and hope it will not get him killed as it did Robb.

Everyone in the hall rose as Jon entered. Jon went through the formalities quickly, soon, all the lords are waiting to hear him. This is the moment he will tell them. He knew rumours were rampant, not a single one that put dragonqueen and him is well received by north. He could only hope they will come around to see that they need the dragons and her army. As he expected, pandemonium broke out once he informed his lords he has pledged his forces to dragon queen's campaign.

He expected Sansa to take initial control. He is not blind, he has seen sometimes lords went to her before they could so much as think of him. She has settled well in to her role as warden of North. Yet, it is Arya who calmed the lords.

"Your grace, When I say this, I do for every lord and lady assembled here. We do not wish to bend to a Targaryen again. If you are going to kneel, then I ask you now, lay down your crown, I will gladly don it. North will not bend again. Not now, not ever." Arya said clearly, and with purpose.

Jon could feel her determination. Robb fought for northern independence. The very thought being on their own as they were is what roused the entire north more than the justice. There is now way he could convince the lords to kneel now. Even so, he has to try.

"My lords! Winter is here, we need help of the south! … When I was north of wall, Stannis Baratheon asked Mance Rayder to kneel to him. Mance refused, fifty thousand of his people died for his pride. I could not help but wonder, had he given up his pride instead, how many of his people would be alive? … Daenerys Targaryen has full grown dragons. We need her help to fight the walkers." Jon stopped looking for his lords reaction. They all have frowns on their faces, not liking where this is going. He turned to Arya, expecting her to interrupt at this point and interrupt she did indeed.

"If we need Dragon queen's help, we ask for it. In return, we come to her aid, when she conquers south. North will be glad to call her a friend, but we will not kneel." Arya ended it.

Jon thought about it. Seriously, it has merit. Yes, Daenerys will be spitting nails, but he could probably placate her. Plus, she has lost one of her dragons to night king. It's personal for even her now. So, even if north were not to bend, she will fight the coming war.

"I will not go back on my word, you do not wish to obey your king. We are at at impasse, my princess." Jon said, stalling for time before he can think of something to say.

"There is a way to break this impasse, Jon." Arya replied back.

The entire court is focused on Arya. They did not miss the lack of the honorifics.

"Abdicate to me." Arya said.

The whispers that broke out at her words are like hisses of a thousand snakes. Then it slowly ebbed away, yet, there is no one scolding arya for her impertinence, worse yet, there is no one speaking in his defense, either. It suddenly dawned on him this meeting could very well have been pre-planned.

There is naught to be done for now, Jon concluded. He can most definitely fight her to keep the crown, but that would accomplish nothing. He had faced this kind of opposition once before. When he ploughed his way through, it resulted in a stabbing in the back by brothers. He had never wanted to be a king in the first place. All he wanted is to protect his home, unite south before night king comes. So, he may as well stick to that.

"Under one condition, princess Arya. I need your complete and unconditional support in fight against night king. Promise me this, I will lay down this crown for you any time." Jon answered her.

The entire assembly seemed to collectively let out a sigh of relief. What did they think? That he will fight his sister for the crown at this crucial moment when every last man and woman are needed?

"I promise you, Jon, you shall have my unconditional support in fight against night king and his Armies." Arya answered solemnly.

"Then I will be glad to call you my queen." Jon said, moving aside to give her the center space to Arya.

All the lords and ladies rose when Jon moved aside. Arya took the center chair and sat down. A moment later, all the northern lords sat down. There are no cries of joy, nor is there any one shouting hails of Queen Arya. Just like that, it dawned on Jon this is entirely planned and there is more to this spectacle.

"Any who wish to speak against me speak now, or forever hold your piece." Arya spoke loudly and clearly.

Silence ruled the roost. Everyone is looking at each other, but no one quite came forward. Jon realized even they haven't been told quite all the details, this did not quite match what they are expecting for them to act. They are also too scared of his little sister to outright speak against her. It brought a smile to her. All of five feet and his sister has grown men taking a step back before they gather courage to face her.

"Lord Mallister, please come forward." Arya called.

Lord Mallister stepped forward, holding the scroll as if it's going to vanish any moment now. He held up the scroll gingerly to Arya with both his hands.

"Your grace! I present to you last will and testament of Robb Stark, king in the north." Lord Mallister intoned clearly.

The whispering started again.

"I thank you, my lord for bringing it to us at danger to your person. You have done a great service for house Stark." Arya nodded at him, indicating he should take his seat back. He did without much fuss, Sansa thanked her lucky stars nothing went wrong as of now. They still have more to do.

Arya read the will out loud to the audience. The whispers increased in volume, yet there is no one speaking aloud. By now, Every last one in the assembly is absolutely sure that there is something going on beyond their perception and best they can do is go with the flow. The questions are quite visible on their faces. Jon found to his amusement, they are not looking at him, but Sansa for cues.

By the gods, how much of a grip my sisters have on winterfell? He thought amusedly, though he did his best not to show his amusement out loud. Yes, he is glad for the legitimization by Robb, but he was informed of that separately already. Rest of the will is news to him, and by all means, this will threw more obstacles in Arya's path than in his.

"My lords! Do you all agree part of king Robb's will is already kept, by prince Jon's being hailed king in the north?" Arya asked aloud.

All of Vale turned to Sansa, most of north did the same. She nodded her head, so, they nodded their heads. Jon nodded too, noticing rest of the north is looking to him. By and all, they all agreed. Arya continued.

"At the time this will is written, my brother the king did not know of my survival. Even if I were alive, I was to have married a Frey." Arya stopped there, letting everyone focus on her.

"Winter came for Freys." she said with relish, letting those words linger in the air.

More than one eye widened at her words. Half the court already wondered if Arya stark killed Freys, no one curious is brave enough to ask her, no one brave is did not care who did the deed.

"As such, I am next in line. Since prince Jon abdicated to me, my being queen is rightful. With this, King Robb's will is considered executed, will not be called upon ever again." Arya said with a finality to her voice.

Sansa and Jon both nodded. Cleaner this way. Winterfell could not afford any kind of political plots, they could not show cracks here.

By now, smarter of the lot figured most of this is practised, whatever else may happen, they are going to have a Stark liege and relaxed.

"Now that is out of the way, I bring my sister's marriage to the court. Lady Sansa, your marriage to Tyrion Lannister is annulled, is this true?" Arya asked.

"Yes, your grace." Sansa answered in her icy court voice.

"In that case, you are considered once more a successor to winterfell, north, any and all titles that belonged to King Robb Stark. Any objections?" she asked the larger court.

Obviously there are none. Entire vale relaxed. Entire north let loose a breath. Now, they watched only with mild interest, as if greatest theater in the world is going on. Perhaps it is, Jon noted sarcastically, not showing a hint of it on his countenance.

"Maester, please bring the decree."

Documents are brought and signed by the lords of vale and north.

Arya is not done yet. By now, the tension leaked out of the court, and they are looking at arya with open curiosity.

"In times of war, there is no guarantee for the lives of men. The impending war may be the one may be the most dangerous one yet. On that note, I, Queen Arya of house Stark decree that any children of Ladies Sansa Stark, Meera Reed, Lyanna Mormont be known as Starks, Reeds and Mormonts, may they be born with in or out of wedlock. I extend this boon in perpetuity for in all winters to come." Arya finished.

Sansa seriously expected backlash. Yet, all that happened is Alice Karstark and Manderlys bristling, former quite aware this is one reward she will not be getting until she proves herself, later disappointed they will not be able to push for a marriage. Yet, they took it with good grace. It is a testament to either their belief in Starks, or their fear of Arya. If there were any grandiose ambitions in heads of lords, they all died a quick death after seeing Baelish die. They all are only too aware that neither of Stark sisters are to be taken lightly. The agreement and signing happened only too quickly. Arya gave a meaningful look to Sansa and nodded.

"Now, all of that is taken care of my lords, we are but one deed short of bringing back lawful order. I abdicate my crown to Sansa Stark, as it should have been." Arya declared, making a show of placing the crown in front of Sansa and bowing to her. Sansa just watched her apathetically. Arya retreated back to her seat. Lords in the hall waited patiently. Just as the silence is about to become unbearable, Sansa stood.

"Princess Arya, you do me a great honor." Sansa nodded to her.

The lords are silenced, and they are looking at her as if the greatest show in westeros is going on down here. Perhaps, it is indeed greatest show on this side of blackwater, Arya thought sarcastically. Yet, she waited with bated breath for her sisters words any way. Sansa stood and looked all of them in the eye.

"When I first came to you for help in defeating Boltons, some of you called me a Lannister, some, a Bolton. I did naught but insist I am none but Sansa Stark at that time. To be truthful, I wasn't sure. I was not sure I am not a Lannister, for I craved power and wealth with same zeal. I was not sure I am not a Bolton, for I was just as willing to stab in the back as Boltons." Sansa paused and looked at her audience. The Lords are completely focused on her.

"The Lannister girl who loved all things gold died on sept of Baelor, along with her father. The girl who could stab any in the back vanished in this court, along with Petyr Baelish. Now all that I am, is a Stark. I will be a Stark and Lady of winterfell with or without your approval. Yet, I will not call myself Queen of North without you doing the same. Daenerys Targaryen is here under the belief Seven kingdoms are hers. I can promise you this much. I will not bend my knee if you call me queen in the north. Yet, if you are to call me not but Lady of winterfell, I will never hold it against you. The decision my lords, is yours." Sansa finished. It is at this moment she noticed Tyrion Lannister gearing up from the side.

"If I may, My Lady." Tyrion began.

"No, you may not." Sansa cut him off, using the exact same inflection Tywin Lannister did. The tone startled Tyrion so much, he is shocked into silence for a moment. Sansa acted before he can recover. She gestured to two guards and sent Varys and Tyrion off to east glass garden for breakfast, which meant they will not be released from gardens until and unless she sends for him. As they opened doors to direct Tyrion and Varys out, a lord's party from vale entered, along with Harrold Hardyng and another man covered in a cowl. The man uncovered his cowl just as they have seen last of varys and Tyrion.

"Robb!" Jon is the first one to notice him.

Sansa looked at him in shock. Arya moved before rest of court can so much as twitch, held needle to the man's throat.

"Move and die." Arya threatened. The man did nothing but raise his hands in surrender.

Arya is giving orders to guards to hold his hands and legs, started searching behind his head, ears, neck and shoulders when she couldn't find anything in the former. She moved back and gestured for the guards to release him. The whispers are running rampant in the court.

"Silence." Sansa spoke in her coldest voice. It is the voice of queen delivering justice, it is a voice that promised seven hells and more to any who crossed her. It's amazing how fast she is obeyed. The two lords who just entered both turned to her in awe. The first thing Sansa noticed is there's no recognition in Robb's face upon seeing her. Yet, he looked at Jon as if he could not quite place him.

"Who are you, My lord?" she asked Robb.

"Robert Baelish, At your service my lady." Robb answered.

The entire court is shocked into silence at his words. For the first time, she saw all the pieces Baelish held and all the deals he has orchestrated. For the longest time, she has blamed Lannisters for Red wedding. She wondered often how petyr thought he could control north when she goes south. Yes, North is unfailingly loyal to Starks, but north always followed strength first and foremost and Starks have always been that unfailing strength. Had she not run, had she stayed and birthed the Bolton bastard a son, Petyr Baelish would have pulled rebellion of the century with Robb at helm. Then there she would be, newly widowed and a squalling brat with no one to turn to. All he would have to do is promise his son that he will take care of deposed queen, just like that, second strongest fiefdom in north would be his. Hell, with Robb at head of an army, conquering south will be child's play. Sansa is again first to recover from the shock.

"Lord Robb, please forgive us for our response. You resemble a man dear to us all too much. Please understand, when I am asking you what I am about to ask, it is not an insult but only our dire need to confirm the truth. Could you please take off garments of your upper body." Sansa asked. Those who fought with Robb himself gathered around Sansa and Jon looking as if they are seeing a ghost. For his part, Robb looked utterly bewildered. The expression is so like Robb, all Sansa wanted to do is run forward and hug him, but she resisted. They need to get to bottom of this. In short order, all of Robb's wounds are confirmed, yet, it is one Jon recognized from their childhood misadventure that sealed the deal.

Sansa has given them all an hour to reconvene, escorted Robb to Godswood. What she learned made her blood boil. Robb was in care of some kind of qarth mages. His memories are all jumbled. He recognized parts of winterfell as his own home, yet, the names he associated with people changed. Maester wyllis, who accompanied them informed them it is a rumored qarth blood magic, similar to ones used by faceless men, only it allows for control of a man like a puppet. Stronger the man's will, longer the converting process. 'By the gods! Slitting his throat is too easy death.' Sansa thought to herself, yet, she is all the more glad she did it. Arya held her hand in distress, which is as much as she could come near old Arya Stark. Eventually, they explained to Robb what is happening. Robb is silent on his walk back to the great hall. Robb is the first to move when court reconvened. He kneeled in front of Sansa.

"You tell me I am Robb Stark and it is only magic that's making me think I am Robb Baelish. If I were Robb Stark, my lady, then I failed in doing all I have set out to do. I did not get justice for my father. I did not get independence for North. Worst of all, I did not rescue you. You saved yourself, you saved north, you served Justice where it's due. I will be proud to call you my queen from now till my last breath." Robb said, and remained kneeling.

It is Lord Glover who talked next.

"My lady, When you came to me for help, I was all too stubborn to see. I only resented a king who was to have led us into glory days, died for that cause. I failed to see the rot among us pulling him down. It is you who has seen it. It is you, who cut it down. Without you, we would have walked to our death all the same. With or without dragons, you are my queen, now and forever." Lord Glover knelt to her.

It suddenly dawned on Sansa why Lord Glover was so dismissive of her. He loved Robb. he blamed her, because without her, her mother would not have set Jaime Lannister free, tipping odds against Robb. At the end of the day, all the lords and Ladies knelt to her, and this time, the oaths felt far more personal than ever. It seems she is not the only one who made connection between Red Wedding and Lord Baelish. By the end, Sansa knew two things beyond doubt. Lords of North loved her father and Robb far more than she predicted. At the same time, they hated Targaryens far more than she predicted too. How could they be swearing to bend knee to her after seeing a fully grown and bloody scary dragon?

That, is a story for another day. For now, she is the queen North, and she has no intention of bending knee to any one other than gods.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello all ...

I am stuck in NY waiting for my bus to boston.

Thank the gods I keep my laptop charged :-). Otherwise, I will be stuck here with nothing to do what so ever, while you guys will be waiting for an update what so ever.

On wards it goes ...

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The journey to glass gardens passed in silence. Varys cast sly and concerned glances at Tyrion alternatively. After all, he has never seen the little lion lord staying silent. When Tyrion hadn't uttered a single word even after they are seated in glass gardens for ten continuous minutes, He could hold it no more.

"My! it is too noisy around here, wouldn't you agree my lord?" he quipped. The glass gardens remained as silent as ever.

It is a testament to seriousness of the situation that Tyrion Lannister did not have any quips to answer back with.

"A copper for your thoughts My lord?" Varys prodded when Tyrion did not answer back.

Tyrion did not answer back immediately, but he did sit down in front of Varys.

"I have not taken you for a man who could not take silence. In fact, I remember you resisting the urge to cut my tongue just to stop me from talking." Tyrion answered back.

"Couldn't much be a master of whisperers with no whispers about. " Varys answered evenly.

The shock at the audacious move Sansa Stark pulled is weighed heavily in the silence. they both looked towards the guards keeping them in here assessing ways to get rid of them. unfortunately, there are none. they are stuck here until such a time as Sansa Stark finishes whatever it is she is doing. At last, Tyrion began speaking, more in reminiscence than to fill the silence.

"Once upon a time, when I was young, a travelling circus passed by Lannisport. They had every animal known in westeros, even a lion, but no wolves or dragons. I knew why he did not have dragons, but I could not for the life of me understand why he did not have wolves. I asked the man why he did not have a wolf when they are so abundant westeros. After all, a wolf jumping hoops is far more interesting than a dog jumping one. Do you know what he said?" Tyrion asked giving varys a moment to catch his breath.

"Pray tell, My lord. After all we seem to be have snow and time in abundance." Varys answered in his usual long suffering tone. Tyrion continued as if Varys did not say anything at all.

"he said if they can be tamed, they are called dogs, not wolves." Tyrion finished poignantly.

Varys admired the simplicity and cleverness of the statement for a moment. After all, it is true. a wolf pup hid in the plain sight, doing tricks like a whipped dog. They are so busy looking at the shadows, they forgot wolf pups don't grow to be dogs, no matter how much they imitate one. Some, to fatal consequences, like lord of littlest finger.

"We were blind fools to have thought wolf pups grow into dogs…" Varys said conversationally. It is saying much the sentence lacked his usual mystery.

"This is going to get bad, isn't it?" Varys asked Tyrion after some time.

"No my friend, it is going to get worse." Tyrion answered.

Varys looked at him askancely.

"Daenerys has always been a liberator. she has liberated east from slavery. she killed the masters, the people worshipped her for it. There will never come a time in westeros where she will be revered to that extent." Tyrion answered.

Varys nodded thoughtfully in answer.

"North will never bend for any but a Stark. Riverlands and Vale will not choose a Targaryen as long as there is a Stark available to pledge to. The south will be undecided. They will bend to whoever comes asking first, or whoever offers most." Varys said.

"An army alone cannot accomplish that. We need to have a dragon at our back if we are going to do that." Tyrion said, looking meaning fully at Varys.

In that moment, they both knew what the other person left out.

If one dragon could be felled by the white walkers, there is no guarantee remaining two won't. If the remaining two were to fall, it will take but a single moment for Daenerys to be seen as the oppressor instead of the saviour she imagined herself to be. Even the North weakened by winter will be nigh impossible to take if that were to happen.

The only strategy at the moment is to play nice with the North as they battle night king, and pray to gods the northern lords will see Daenerys is a more capable ruler than Sansa Stark.

Needless to say, both of them doubted that all too much. Sansa Stark, if nothing else, is a brilliant administrator. They could see it within the single day they spent at Winterfell. How ever, a one needs to be more than a great administrator to be a great ruler. Their only hope is Sansa Stark does not have that intuition which sets apart a great ruler from a mediocre one. Given the way of Stark children always having enough to survive if not to stand out, that probably is going to be an empty hope.

The silence between the eunuch and dwarf is more noisy than the chatter at market in kings landing, as they thought of and filed away a thousand otherways Daenerys could screw this up on them. As they thought of all the ways this crowning could go wrong, Queen Sansa's good traits only became more glaringly visible against all of Daenerys's bad ones.

Both of their eyes landed on the direwolf on the breast plates of the guards only 'escorting' them respectfully - only, the guards had the habit of gently pushing them towards the dining table when ever they made and effort to leave 'protective' circle guards made around them. their eyes met as they both recovered from their perusal of direwolf emblem.

"She would have made a fine queen." Varys commented.

Tyrion understood what that is an alliteration for any way. the longing in his voice is unmistakable. There is great joy to be had in serving a capable ruler, just as there is great disappointment in serving an undeserving one. worse yet, Varys has seen aerys going from a probably good king to mad overlord. Daenerys is exhibiting same symptoms, how much ever he wished to deny it's truth.

"Aye, she would have." Tyrion agreed, with longing and much more in his voice. He has always been weak towards cripples, bastards and broken things, but he is only finding out how much more weak he is towards strength. Sansa Stark has a spine of steel if nothing else.

Varys and Tyrion's eyes met again, but this time, they both ignored what they saw in other's eyes. A longing to serve Queen Sansa instead of Queen Daenerys. For they both thought the same, if they acknowledge it in the other, they will no longer be able to ignore their own desire to serve the winter queen. They both made their bed, now they have to lie in it, come hell by fire or ice. There is no other choice.

Their breakfast arrived meanwhile, all in single courses of meagre porridge and butter, all of which the servants served with the speed of a snail. Tyrion ate without complaints any way, for he is sure this is a kings fare during winter.

With the end of long breakfast incidentally matched Queen Sansa's arrival.

"Greetings, My lords. I hope you are enjoying your breakfast." Sansa enquired pleasantly, with an undercurrent of command daring them to say otherwise. it suited her well.

"Why, my lady, we are revelling in our detainment over a nice breakfast."

"Oh! My lord, you surely jape!" Sansa exclaimed with a cold voice, befitting of a queen. The kind of voice which told the other party to disagree at the loss of their head.

Varys responded before Tyrion Lannister could well and truly talk himself into losing his head.

"I must say that's wickedly funny, Lord Tyrion." he responded, giving a meaningful look to Tyrion.

Tyrion only slurped the ale they provided with the breakfast noisily.

Sansa gave a thin lipped smile to both eunuch and the dwarf.

"The northern council has concluded, my lords. They have unanimously chosen I as their queen, and I accepted." Sansa finished and waited for them to speak.

"The king in the north bent the knee." Tyrion said.

"Jon snow bent the knee. He never had the right to do so on behalf of north." Sansa responded.

"He promised us an army at our back when we take on Cersei." Tyrion answered back.

"North will be quite willing to keep that promise, My lord, given Queen Daenerys upholds her end." Sansa answered back.

"What are your terms, My lady?" Tyrion Asked back.

"Your grace." Arya said coldly. her voice cut through conversation like a knife through water.

"She's not my queen, my lady." Tyrion answered back to Arya.

"Not a lady." Arya answered back and glared at him.

"An alliance until such a time as night king defeated, my lord. No more, no less." Sansa cut in before arya could do more damage.

"Our queen will not be happy with that, My lady." it's Varys who responded her back.

"Then my good men, please think, what seven kingdoms need most at this moment." Sansa answered back.

"I make no promises, My lady." Tyrion answered back after some time.

That will not make a great answer, but Sansa decided to make her peace with it after a moment. After all, killing any one on her side now will only prove dragon queen is mad or worse.

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Daenerys Targaryen is having a very good dream. She's lying down on a comfortable bed after a really long time. She has not realized how much she took warmth for granted till she entered winterfell after a long and arduous journey through the north. The scent of blossoms, the warmth of the furs lulled her to best sleep she had in awhile.

So she laid in bed fit for a queen, slept like a babe and dreamed of sweet summer and dragons. Oh, what a glorious dream it is. She is sitting in a grand chair on a pedestal. The clearing is full of Targaryen knights. Sansa Stark stood on the other side, in the center of the clearing. She could tell it is summer, for the there is scent of the flowers in the air, everyone is dressed only in silks.

Suddenly, there is screech of dragons. She looked up and saw, there are not just one or two, but seven dragons in the air. They started circling over head while there are more screeches, announcing arrival of even more dragons. As she heard another screech, which she could tell beyond doubt belonged to Rhaegal. She woke up, just as she got up in her dream to greet Rhaegal.

Her servants were waiting for her. The servants of winterfell directed her to a hot spring turned into baths, made especially for relieving of the pains from riding and cold. They told her it has been prepared specially for her, as she is the only one who can withstand temperatures that high among them. Like they have promised, the water is just underneath boiling. It has been most rejuvenating for her after experiencing the bone deep cold of north.

Tyrion Lannister entered her chambers as soon as she is ready to receive, not a moment later. Varys accompanied him. She knew something has gone wrong again, if not from their faces, then from their guilty shuffle. Dany sighed internally. It's turning out to be such a good day too. Soon, she found out why.

Tyrion fidgeted incessantly as he waited for Daenerys to some kind of response. This silence is far more nervewreking than her fire. He had come prepared for her fire, he has a thousand and one strategies to pull her back and explain to her why she can't burn or hack off the head of Sansa Stark. Yet, Dany stared at both of them, unblinkingly, with no expression whatsoever.

Just as Tyrion is at his wits end, Dany burst out laughing. If anything, the whole thing only confirmed the queen's slow descent into madness. When neither Varys nor Tyrion responded back, Dany got her laughter under control. She wiped tears of her eyes. Are likes of Sansa Stark supposed to challenge her now?

She remembered Lady Stark. She sat at the high table looking all pretty, listening to hundred and one old men, directing servants and arranging for refreshments to be brought out sooner, directing women to knit clothes, checking on the smithy. Dany could tell with one glance that girl did not have much talent other than her beauty.

She wouldn't have lasted a single night in the red waste. Sansa Stark wouldn't have survived her first day with Khal drogo, much less tame him. Sansa Stark would have never escaped any prison made by undead. Sansa Stark would have become naught but another bed slave had she tried to deal with Kraznyk in Astapor.

"Is it fashion in westeros? To usurp?" she asked lightly.

Tyrion cracked a small smile in return.

"If it were to be fashion, it is only recently." Tyrion quipped back.

She can see the relief in his eyes how much ever he tried to hide it. Even Varys's stance relaxed a little and usually the spider is a thousand times harder to read. They truly must have thought she will run over to burn Sansa Stark to ground as soon as she heard.

"What happened to Jon snow?" she asked.

Starks are a tight knit family, that much she understood as soon as she saw Jon greet his sisters. There is just an understanding the air, a response to even minutest twitch from other person, as if there is telepathy. She wondered if that is what it is to have a family.

"He is prince Jon snow now. This would be the monumental moment in the history of westeros. There is no king in westeros who survived sitting a throne." Tyrion threw out, while varys measured Queen's response carefully. She only cracked a small smile in response, clearly indicating she found the scenario more humorous than concerning.

Both spider and Tyrion are dumbfounded by Queen's response, but they decided to take their blessings where they came. If Daenerys Targaryen decided Sansa Stark is a small fish, then they will by no means disabuse her of that notion. At this point, acting against Sansa Stark is a bad decision. they don't have enough foothold among northern lords, worse yet, they don't have any foothold in south either. They left dragon queen's chambers soon after, with the instructions to find out as much information as possible about Sansa stark's enthronement.

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Sansa requested a meeting with Dragon queen nigh past noon. She dearly hoped the lavender incense she burned in her room would have sufficed in calming down the queen enough. After all, she is but stealing three kingdoms from under her rule, without so much as by your leave. worse yet, she is stealing her lover too, but there is no need for the Dragon queen to know that. the best she can hope for is the continuation of same treaty that she had with Jon.

Sansa sat in one of the larger council rooms used by winterkings of the past, accompanied only by Brienne. the guards at the door looked a wee bit cowed when the dragon queen arrived with all her honor guard, dothraki, unsullied and missandei. Yet, they did not let her through till Sansa gave them leave. Daenerys is a bit irritated, but then, it did not take long enough for Sansa to welcome them. Dany deliberately arrived late to ruffle the newly crowned queen's feathers, but Sansa gave no indication as to being offended.

The guard entered before she did. they were going to spread out throughout the room, but Brienne stopped the guards going towards Sansa's back. Daenerys entered just in time to see the last guard trying to reach Sansa's back stopped by ghost, who seemed to be staying under the table.

The beast made no sound at all as he stopped in front of the dothraki silently, blocking him. The bloodrider stumbled back in fright, yet, to his credit he did not squeal like some of his friends did when they saw the beast for first time. By the time they are done, three quarters of the room is covered with Daenerys's guard. Sansa only had ghost and Brienne to help her.

"It is customary to stand when a queen enters a room." Daenerys said coldly.

Sansa wondered if she should thank her for observing the custom and tell her to be seated. That will smart like nothing else, if Daenerys is as vain as she is exhibiting. In the end, she chose not to. Sansa spoke just as the silence is about to become oppressive.

"It is commendable of you to know of so many westerosi customs. However, that only applies to one's subjects." Sansa replied, still seated.

Dany realized she has lost this one. If she were to sit now, she loses. if she were to stand and continue the argument while Sansa Stark sits, she still loses. In the end, Tyrion shook his head surreptitiously, advising her not to prolong this spat, so she sat. Varys and Tyrion sat on either side of her.

"Speak Lady stark. I assume you have much to say to call such a meeting when we are so busy in preparation for the war." Dany said, subtly poking the other girl. To her credit, Sansa Stark did not respond.

"Much has happened in north since yesterday. I decided a meeting necessary to convey all that has happened." Sansa said calmly.

Her audience did not respond, other than Missandei translating for Dothraki, so Sansa continued.

"To day morning, a great council of northern lords is called to put succession of house Stark to order. King Robb Stark's will is brought to light. My brother, the king legitimized Jon Snow as Jon Stark. I, myself was removed from the order of succession. As it stood, since my brother Bran is alive, the winter crown passes to him first. As such, Jon Snow's reign till to day is considered void, and only providential. My brother Bran accepted the winter crown, then abdicated to my sister Arya, as she is next in line. Queen Arya passed three decrees with unanimous agreement of northern council. Firstly, Houses Reed, Mormont and Royce are granted a boon where in any children born of their daughters, will be automatically considered legitimate and all daughters of northern houses could give their sons their last name, provided they are last of the line or if their husband is of lesser status." Sansa paused there, giving Tyrion and Varys time to discuss with the queen. Once they quieted, she continued.

"Secondly, it is decreed it is right of royal family to marry where they wish to, with or without the approval of queen or king. Thirdly, she amended the line of succession to include I. Then, she abdicated the crown to me." Dany looked like she is about to jump out of her chair with anger at the farce that went on, but she held it in.

"It is at this moment, before I accepted the crown, a visitor from vale is announced. He called himself Lord Robert Baelish, of Fingers." Sansa paused a moment, as she expected, both Varys and Tyrion exclaimed that it is Robb Stark. Sansa continued.

"Indeed. The council was just as confused as you two, we could do naught but call a break in proceedings to get to the bottom of the matter." Sansa looked at both of the lords, and dared them to defy her. They both looked like they are barely holding their tongue. Now they could never tell Dany they were held for that time, for they implicitly agreed they were taking a break during that time.

"Princess Arya and Lord Glover examined Lord Robert closely, and determined it is indeed King Robb stark. How ever, we have witnesses from the Red wedding, who confirmed king's heartbeat stopped. Thus, it is determined the same way Jon snow's oath to night watch is until his death, king Robb's reign is observed until his death. " Sansa paused here, giving them more time to absorb information as she considered her next words. Far more has happened with Robb, but there is no need to inform Dragon queen of that.

"I informed the council that I will take the crown only with their full support, for I will not ask them to be subjects of some one they do not believe in. A vote is called for. The great council has chosen I unanimously. Vale and Riverlands swore fealty to me. the coronation will be held in godswood in an hour. You are welcome to attend, your grace. My lords." Sansa nodded her head to Varys and Tyrion.

Dany stared at her. That is quite the tale. Yet, it is not the specifics she looked at, but the gist. Sansa Stark has taken three of her seven kingdoms, and she has the gall to sit right in front of her and declare that. Dany wondered what in the world this little girl can do if she were to order her blood riders to kill her right here. For a brief moment, she imagined Sansa's head separated from her neck by an arakh.

Then her rage cleared, she looked in to quite alarmed faces of her advisors. It is then she realized she has asked that question out loud. It is then Sansa Stark started speaking. Brienne's hands are on her sword, but she did not pull it. Her blood rider's hands are on their arakhs, but they did not pull them out either.

"I will probably die. Though I wonder, what will that get you?" Sansa asked calmly.

It is Tyrion who answered the question mentally.

Nothing.

That is what they achieve by killing Sansa Stark. Daenerys may think by killing Sansa Stark, all three kingdoms will choose her, but they will not. It is a testament to how much they dislike targaryens that they have chosen Sansa as their queen after seeing dragons. Worse yet, Sansa Stark has four heirs to choose from, regardless of their taking of the crown nominally and then abdicating to her. All of her heirs are militarily oriented and far more dangerous than her. Arya Stark, the assassin. Brandon Stark, who knows everyone's secrets, or at least that's what varys tells him. Robb Stark who has never lost a battle. Jon Stark, who is only in lust with Dany, not in love. He will neither forgive, nor forget murder of his sister, army of dead be damned. He will most certainly put a sword right through dragon queen's heart, despite what Dany believes. If there is one thing Tyrion remembered from cursory glance at House Stark's history, it is that they are the last ones standing. Always.

The north will neither forget, nor forgive. It is the surest way to make sure that kingdom never ever will become part of seven kingdoms. If Daenerys touches so much as a hair on Sansa's head, she forsakes not just her campaign but the fate of entire world, given the army of dead marching on them. Dany, miraculously, seemed to have come to same conclusion, though probably not the same amount of fatal finality as Tyrion. Her anger, if anything, seems only to have multiplied. Yet, she reigned it in.

"Seven kingdoms are my birthright, Lady Stark. My ancestors won them by fire and blood, and I will do the same when times comes. It will be mine one way or another.". She bit out, but her anger could be felt in every last one of her words. Sansa answered calmly, if not a bit coolly.

"Until such a time as we have such leisure, may I count on your grace's support in war against dead?"

Danaerys did not answer. The clock ticked away, with not a single person in the room making a sound. Finally, it is the dragon queen who broke.

"You may. "

Dany looked contrite that Sansa turned the conversation so effectively.

"Thank you, your grace. We appreciate your help in this great war. I assure you, when the time comes for taking back south, I will be your ally just the same." Sansa answered back, with neither rancor, nor undue gratefulness.

That, more than anything, scared Tyrion. Has it been like this for king Aerys and his father? His queen has proven impetuous, nigh on vain. though she was able to reign in her temper, caused no lasting damage, how long will it last? Tyrion wondered. If anything, Sansa Stark has proven she is far more dangerous and clever than they estimated with this meeting.

Where as Daenerys does not seem to have understood the undercurrents of much of what happened. Varys felt a sense of deja vu as he met Tyrion's gaze. He too have reached same conclusion as Tyrion, for he experienced the same undercurrent before, with Aerys and Tywin.

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Every other person in the castle who can spare a minute attended the coronation. There were even some dothraki, who were more curious than reverent. Missandei stood to one side, taking in the scene curiously. Some of the wildlings stood to another side, looking more curious about the dothraki and the southrons than the coronation. For the second time in recent future, Sansa entered winterfell godswood with all the pomp they can muster. Only, this time not a single person in the crowd pitied her. Bran waited for her beneath the weirwood.

"Who comes before the old gods?" he asked in that cold inhuman voice of his. The very air felt solemn as his voice cut through the noise like a knife through butter. All the men of north stood more alert, their eyes almost reverent.

Even the dothraki and wildlings quieted down, looking on in disquiet, as if they could sense presence of gods in the air.

"I, Sansa Stark come before the old gods, to declare myself Stark in the winterfell and winter queen." Sansa answered back, her voice just as cold and filled with determination.

"Are you worthy, Sansa, Stark of winterfell?" Bran asked, if anything, his voice sounded colder and more inhumane.

A sudden gust of cold air blew through, as Sansa considered how to answer that. She expected this is the part any objections are spoken by northern lords if there are any. The air never felt more heavier. Sansa answered just as the silence was becoming oppressive, and people started fidgeting.

"I do not know if I am worthy. I only know I am willing to learn. I shall strive to be more worthier tomorrow, than I am yesterday. I will endure this winter and all winters to come as a Stark of winterfell."

"Then come forth and make your promise to old gods, Stark of winterfell."

Sansa took the valyrian dagger from Arya, slid her palm lightly over it. The blood bloomed in her hand. She placed her hand on the weirwood.

"I, Sansa Stark promise to the old gods I will be stark in the winterfell till end of my life. There is no deed below me, no hardship above me. I shall see I and mine through this winter, and all winters to come, for as long as I live. This, I promise as winter queen." She finished and moved back.

There is a change in the very air. It is a subtle something, like a blanket of protection, or a rare spell of warm air expelled from hot springs, the very air felt magical for a moment, as if weighing and accepting the winterqueen. Then just as it began, the feeling ebbed away.

"Old gods harken your promise, winter queen. You have their blessing. Rule well, Queen Sansa." Bran finished in his inhumane voice. Arya passed him a iron and bronze crown, which looked feminine, yet strong at the same time. A single grey stone shone in the middle, it's glint looking like a snowflake. Sansa knelt in front of Bran. For once after his return, Bran looked just like Bran, not three eyed raven. He placed the crown on Sansa's head, looking like a proud father rather than young brother. Sansa waited for three seconds, as the heavyweight of the crown settled on her head. Then she stood and turned to face the crowd.

For a moment, the crowd stood silent, taking in the spectacle she made, in her light grey gown, with her blood red hair, and the contrast of almost black looking crown that glittered as if it is made of a thousand little thorns rather than just a iron band, the grey stone in the center of her head, which somehow glittered solemnly even in this overcast winter day. It is Arya who responded first.

"Long live, winter queen." She said, kneeling with her small sword across her knee.

Jon and Robb followed with proud smiles, the lords of vale and north next. The ripples spread across, the dothraki and wildlings shuffling slowly backwards. Then the strangest thing happened. Tormund, who was standing at the head of wildlings, knelt, placed his dagger across his knee. As the lords of north looked on with disbelief, all the remaining wildlings knelt. The remaining dothraki, who weren't many knelt all the same, along with missandei.

Sansa watched it all happen with a strange detachment. Had she been the girl she was, she would have felt giddy with excitement. Sansa , the queen only felt her duty all the more keenly.

"Rise." she said, her voice cut through winter wind like a chime. It is the kind of voice that is soft, sweet, yet commanding all the same. The kind of voice that belonged to a queen. All around, people stood up, some, with more effort than others. The northern lords had small smiles on their faces. For once, Lyanna mormont looked like the child she is, with a carefree look on her face, as she bounded over towards Arya and Sansa happily. Arya gave her a small smile. Soon, Sansa announced the feast, which is by no means a luxurious one as they will in south, yet, the people relished it all the more. Even the vale knights.

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Sansa's ears buzzed as she walked back. Yet, thoughts in her head flew faster. The help from kings landing should be arriving any day now. She did not expect Cersei to send a big force, perhaps any unfortunate souls she hated more than any thing and one assassin for each of them to do away with them in the heat of battle. Sansa already decided she will send all of cersei's army straight towards wall without a stop at winterfell.

She thought much about how they can weaken Cersei's position, for as much as they seem to take away from her, she seemed to overcome the challenge by committing one atrocity more heinous than the previous one. Yet, winter is here, and now is not the time for honor. It is as she started her daily rounds the idea struck her suddenly. A boy has arrived to winterfell with ser Davos, who's close to Arya and quite good with a hammer. She heard he is a bastard son of Robert Baratheon.

She could use that. Daenerys Targaryen is a mighty figure, but she bore far too many similarities to Cersei. She is too beautiful, came with too much power and same capacity for cruelty, despite what her advisers insisted. Sansa needs someone who can become a nuisance, yet not a real contender for throne. A valid excuse for any man not willing to support either of the queens till one of them emerged definitely victorious. A legitimized bastard son of Robert Baratheon is just right for the job.

She soon came upon the forge Gendry is supposed to be working in. He is hard at work. Arya puttered around him, sharpening blades he is placing in a basket. She smiled at both of them. All the more better. Her sister needs to marry someday or other, Sansa is absolutely sure as much as northern lords have given them loyalty, marrying in to any of the families in this generation will not do. If what she is reading in her sister's mien is correct, legitimizing Gendry is becoming all the more sweeter deal.

"Hello Arya! Who's your friend here?" Sansa asked lightly. Or she tried. Her voice still came out too cold and emotionless.

It is to his credit Gendry did not break from his work, unlike most of his colleagues. Sansa winced internally. She didn't mean to disturb them. She had no idea how many of them had to restart work because of her.

"Greetings, your grace. This is my friend Gendry." Arya introduced, while her eyes challenged Sansa to say one wrong word about the company she is keeping.

"Hello Gendry." Sansa said genially, as she offered him her hand.

Gendry stared at it. Finally, as the silence is becoming unbearable, Arya nudged him and told him in a whisper to kiss the hand. Gendry bent in half to kiss the hand rather than raising it to his lips. Arya sniggered, even Sansa smiled a bit at the genuine innocence of the gesture.

"It is a valiant deed you did at the wall, Gendry. If it were within my power, I will knight you for it." Sansa informed him.

Gendry blushed in answer.

"Thank you, My lady." he said bashfully.

"If you do not have any other engagements Gendry, I would like you to join us for dinner with us from now onwards." Sansa informed him.

"Why?" Arya exclaimed even as Gendry looked gobsmacked at her.

Brienne looked a wee bit disapproving, but that soon melted away into blank expression.

"I heard you say he is family, did I hear wrong, Arya?" Sansa asked.

Arya had nothing to say in answer to that. If it's possible, Gendry blushed even more at that.

"Well then. We take our dinner at the hour of rabbit, after the last light. We will see you tonight." Sansa said and breezed away from them.

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The war council happened day after. For the first time, Daenerys stood in presence of all the Starks, and it is a disconcerting experience. For all the support she has from her leaders, it is not she who's calling the final shot. She did not like it one bit. For all their participation, her dothraki warriors are in too much awe of Jon and Robb. Aye, they danced to her tune, but there is a subtle look of interest whenever Jon or Robb spoke. The blood riders turned impatiently to Missandei for translation as soon as they finished speaking, sometimes, they don't even seem to need that to understand one another. It is disconcerting.

Tyrion started with his usual spiel on how they are going to secure winterfell, how they are going to arrange troops in pointed arrows that moved sideways around winterfell. It sounded correct. He even had a plan to takedown her fallen child with two scorpions. Dany's grief rent at her anew at that, but she persevered. She understood this is the only thing she could do for her child. She could not let that unnatural perversion of her child continue. At least, in death, her child aught find peace.

"What do you think, Robb?" Sansa asked.

The entire table turned to Robb Stark. Daenerys watched with curiosity, but not Robb Stark, but her own advisers. What she saw there troubled her more than she could admit. They looked more like children seeking approval of an adult, like they are making this plan for the first time.

"It is a good plan. But I wonder…?" Robb let it hang like that, as he observed the movements reported by Bran, and various northerners who retreated to winterfell as the winter became unbearable.

"Sansa, do we have old maps of north?" Robb asked suddenly.

Jon leaned in and took one more look at the map.

"The moth eaten one we found." he added.

"The map Rickon tried to chew?" Sansa said in askance. Jon nodded.

Arya held a hand up before Sansa could open her mouth.

"I moved it from your room. It's in here now." She said, before climbing up the side of the tallest cupboard, pulled up a grimy looking rough wooden scroll.

They spread it out on the table.

"They are foxnetting." the Umber arms man said.

"Aye, they are." Jon answered in astonishment.

"What is foxenteeng?" Daenerys asked, her accent off. None of the north lords corrected her.

"It is a hunting technique, used not for hunting per say, but for repopulating a piece of forest with animals of prey, after predators are hunted to minimal levels. Then the meat yielding animals are hunted after few months. It increases meat yield."

"They are herding us like cattle?" Varys asked with horror on his face.

"Is there anything special about these areas?" Jon asked, pointing to the areas that will be freed of humans.

"Althen steps. It's famous for blackstone." Umberman answered.

Jon looked at Sansa, but Sansa is already talking to the guard.

"What is blackstone?" it is missandei who asked the question this time. Maester Wolkan answered her.

"It is the stone that shines in the night, my lady. It is also called star stone, sky stone. Some say it absorbs sunlight, and converts it into starlight for the night." Maester answered her.

"I remember seeing one. It is a bit similar in appearance to dragon glass, only, like very dark obsidian trapped in sand stone. It is very hard to work with too. Do you think it's possible it will kill others too?" Tyrion asked.

"We will not lead any missions to find out, that's for sure." Daenerys added, with a glare towards Tyrion.

They spread out the old map on the table.

"By the gods!" Robb is the first one to exclaim, followed by Jon.

"Sansa, we need to talk to houses along white knife right away. I believe they might be in danger, in a day or two. They are herding smallfolk towards kings road in north. Meanwhile, a part of the army or the others could be redirected to the white knife junction. If they take control of the white knife junction, they will get hold of all of supply lines. Kings road from south runs through there." Jon explained.

It will be all too easy for the others to add to their army and redouble back to winterfell hung in the air, without him saying it.

"The biggest concern is dragon." Robb added.

"How so?" Daenerys asked him.

"We can probably win one victory with overwhelming force, either the white knife junction, or northern kingsroad. How ever, to do either our army has to leave safety of winterfell, and attack rather than defend. If we were to do so, the dragon can double back any time, and attack winterfell. We do not have enough forces to cover all three locations, even with addition of your armies, Your grace." Robb finished speaking.

"What is your advice?" she asked, more out of habit.

Sansa interrupted before Robb can speak.

"There is no choice. You have to win both. I will hold winterfell."

All the north men on the council turned to her.

The pleading in their eyes is unmistakable. Sansa did not yield. They all nodded in acquiescence, then started talking about plans for both battles. It is decided early on Robb will command one, Jon other. It is stated out loud only for the convenience of Dothraki and dragon queen. Almost all northern and vale lords implicitly understood it to be so, it did not even occur to them to think otherwise.

Dany never felt the need to assert her power more. How ever, she is just did not have enough military understanding to make a plan, she definitely did not have enough fighting experience to command men in the battle. Obviously, her dragons are the most powerful weapon they held. Yet, in the darkest recesses of her mind, Dany is afraid. Afraid that Drogon might run away again, or refuse to fly at her command. Afraid that either of her dragons will die, and this time, she will fall with them.

Dany has always lived knowing a sword hung above her head. She knew it when she was running from house with red door. She knew it when she lied in luxury in pentos. She knew it more intimately when she became khaleesi. She has known it as she ran her conquest of essos. Yet, all those times, she also knew her dragons are invincible. They did not have an equal. Just like there is no woman her equal. Yet, since coming to westeros, all those notions are challenged.

She has been a little impressed with Cersei Lannister. For all her faults, she bore the meeting with her dragons too well. Dany has come to the meeting fully prepared to deal with a woman who will quake in her boots once she has seen the dragons, yet, Cersei only had cold disdain for her. The slavers of essosi did not look half as confident with a thousand ships behind them as they met her dragon. But then, Ned Stark's son was there too. There it is, again.

Because he is Ned Stark's son. Because she is Ned Stark's daughter. For a dead man, Ned Stark seemed to wield quite a bit of power. She wondered, for the first time, if her father's idea of burning the Starks is the right one. As they discussed the plans for the coming battles, she carefully considered the people in the room, including her own advisers. The Dothraki leaders are surprisingly engaged in what's happening on the table, understanding what Robb and Jon are saying without Missandei so much as uttering a word sometimes. It seems they already have respect of Dothraki.

She turned aside and observed rest of the table. Sansa stark stood a little to the sideways, one guard after another moved to her as she called them, and left with whispered orders. Tyrion Lannister is trying to look nonchalant, but she could tell from his eyes and pose he is ecstatic to be in this room, working the way he is. She could tell with one look northern lords respected all the starks, and they looked at them like they have saved the world for them.

Being in this room, with westerosi people who are working together so efficiently, for the first time, Dany understood. She is never going to be one of them. Not the way queen Sansa is. Hells, not even the way Cersei is. Fool that she is, she fell for the same trap as her brother. Only, they used different words. They sang them different way. They dangled different prizes. They led her by the nose all the same. 'Three betrayals you must face' the words rang in her head. Would she face her betrayals here?

She moved her gaze from one person to another, each more involved in discussion than other, it finally met Varys. It is like time stopped as she met his gaze. His expression changed so fast, Dany could not read half of them. Yet, the most prominent ones remained. Recognition. Fear. Alarm. Dany evened out her expression he looked at her, and gave him what she thought of as reassuring smile. Varys nodded his head, but he wouldn't meet her eyes any more.

She will look back at this moment in years to come, and know, this is the moment when history changed its course.

Then, the people called in by Sansa Stark started to arrive, just like that, everyone returned to the discussion about war, including Varys and Daenerys.

Varys never looked back to this moment, for he knew, in this moment, beyond doubt, that it has begun. Who ever said gods flipped a coin whenever a targaryen has been born, is wrong. For he knew, in this moment, beyond doubt, they only flipped a hourglass. Sometimes, the time ran out before the dragon can go mad, sometimes, after. For he knew now, without doubt, Every dragon will go mad. It has only just begun, for Daenerys Targaryen.

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AN: I can't seem to think of any other story till this one is complete. Damn.. it keeps turning in my head, stopping every thing else from flowing, so this is going to get finished first.


	3. Chapter 3

Foxyflora22, GraciasV & fvcr91 : Thank you. I appreciate any reviews, I am even more happy that you like it.

Guest: oh well, the initial storyline is vastly different. When I finish story, I will see if I can take your advice.

I read my last chapter, it's atrocious grammar wise. Oh well, I kind of write this story more as word vomit while drunk, it's not an excuse, but at least few of the dialogue is intriguing. I will try to make this one better, but given my skills - guess it will be to same standard.

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Sansa Stark talked to a hundred different people. She never turned to look at Daenerys Targaryen, yet, she did not miss a single expression on the queen's face. Neither did she miss the single moment of doubt and guilt on Varys's face. It passed so quickly, she almost thought it an illusion. It is to observe these things she artfully arranged mirrors throughout the room.

The information she heard from her men bothered her. The guard from Althen steps is a huntsman. He confirmed there seemed to be a mountain route from AlthenSteps, to the white knife region through a underground tunnel locals called death cave. It seems men seemed to have difficulty breathing in side the caves some time. Yet, they could transfer goods in a trice, if needed. Tyrion asked the man if there are lime rock is to be found in these areas.

Then maester wolkan explained that these type of caves are reported near many lime rock rich areas, with springs running through them. It is believed the entrance and exit of such caves can be determined by throwing flowers in the streams running through these caves. Then the man confirmed indeed it is a hobby of local youths to throw stuff in streams passing through caves. The man from white knife confirmed existence of a strange pool in one of the villages, where the river usually brings in pure white flora that doesn't grow in the area.

Jon looked aghast, and Tyrion looked a bit peeved when the entire thing is confirmed, but they shook it off fast enough and started making plans. It is Dany's expression hat worried Sansa. She looked like she is receiving enlightenment. Sansa covertly observed her since then, it looked like something is indeed revealed to Dragon queen. The way she eyed everyone in the room confirmed that absolutely.

"We can not march to umber lands, neither can we march to Althen steps immediately. Between dead and our soldiers, the dead are more likely to reach there first. The best solution is to collapse the mountain exits by sending a small but capable team." Tyrion argued.

"Spoken like a Lannister, with no care for their soldiers. These lands are not passable in summer, they are nigh impossible in winter, even for a born and bred mountain clansman." Umber man snarked.

"Is it possible to send out parties warning the lord and the villagers, Lord Royce?" Jon asked.

"Aye. I do not believe lord of white knife will send out criers. We are better off doing that ourselves too." Lord Royce answered.

"When do you think they will attack?" the Harold Hardying asked. He had been trying his best to show off himself to both queens since he arrived with Robb. He recognized Sansa from her time at Eyrie, and tried his best to pretend he has been nothing but the most valiant knight to her. He has also been trying to curry favor with either of her brothers.

"It looks like a ten day march." Tyrion answered looking at the map.

"Can we be sure of that?" Lord Royce asked, looking at Stark siblings.

Jon frowned at the map, while Robb looked at contemplatively.

"If I am ten thousand year old, have need of neither sleep nor food, what will I do?" Jon quipped lightly.

The people in the room looked at him as if he is gone mad, but a small smile played at his lips, as he looked at Robb. This must be a childhood game for Robb and Jon. They all returned to contemplating the map on table. It is Robb who spoke first.

"I will not." he spoke clearly.

All the people in the room turned to him.

"Pardon me?" Tyrion said, looking at him.

"I will not do a thing, if I have eternal life and need no sleep or food. I will sit there, and wait. Wait till someone comes to die. Then add them to my army and sit in wait again." Robb said, his blue eyes focusing on white knife.

The table looked at him aghast, even the Dothraki leaders, as Missandei translated for them. Yet, not a single one of them can deny the truth of the statement.

Robb is in a fine form though.

Robb pointed to Althen Steps, the the only mountain in the north to contain even a strain of dragon glass or starstone.

"Hold and not yield that which can harm."

Then, he pointed to the foxnetting that Others are spinning, sending smallfolk towards winterfell.

"Send my game to where it can flourish"

He pointed to the white knife, trisection of roads going east, south and north.

"Set a trap and sap their strength."

Then Robb pointed to the mountain range connecting Althen steps to White knife, with it's poisoned caves and impassable mountains.

"Keep a hidden card, if I can."

The entire room couldn't have looked less shocked if they tried.

Eyes of the men in room gleamed with respect and in some cases, fear. Fear at what would have happened had Robb failed to see this. It would have been a massacre and more.

"They are going to attack on the day southern army crosses." Tyrion realized with mounting horror.

"If there is an southern army." Sansa added skeptically.

The rest of the table looked like they agreed.

"Queen Cersei saw the threat with her own eyes." Dany added, looking at Tyrion.

Tyrion squirmed under her gaze, but he did not refute what Sansa said.

If anything, that only seemed to miff Dany more.

The discussion continued, detailed plans were made. For now, the vale knights will muster, but will not cross. They will be divided into four parts, each patrolling a set area. The schedules will be decided by local lords, so as to protect crops and cattle. The winter stores will be brought to winterfell in small quantities till they establish an unbreakable supply chain. They will try warn off the southern army through Stonehedge. Dothraki will establish and keep the supply line strong. The host will be divided into two parts, one will go with Robb to south, another to north with Jon. Queen Daenerys will take her dragons north, with Jon. Sansa will hold winterfell with remaining forces. A token force of unsullied and Dothraki will stay with Tyrion at winterfell to assist and to serve as scouts to other two forces if winterfell falls. With that, they concluded the war council for the day.

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All Bran wanted to do is get information on Night king. Yet, it is slow going. The animals refused to move as he wanted them to, worse yet, they died on him when he tried to continue forcefully. So, for once, he chose to look at something other than indistinct black figures in snow. It is a stupid thing to do, worse yet, it is a dangerous thing to do. For mere few seconds in his life, he wanted to be a boy, he just wanted to know about the family that perished before meeting him.

It's not a big deal, after all. He knew the history, he is not going to those moments where history is made. He wanted know those things that made essence of people. He wanted to know what Rhaegar Targaryen, his uncle by marriage is made of. People said great many things about him. Just like they say great many things about Arya, Sansa and Jon. Yet, if anything, Bran has learned truth is not always what it seems.

The day he arrived at Red keep is the day before Rhaegar left for the battle at trident. His father ordered him to win and cut off heads of all the traitors. Bran is impressed with Rhaegar's ability to look unaffected with the vulgarity of his father. He met Elia and his children, to whom he advised to trust in Varys and get out of the city as soon as possible. Bran found it weird the way he interacted with Elia. Arthur is waiting for you, he told her. If the marriage is already annulled, then why is Dayne waiting for her? What in the world is happening? Those were his thoughts as he followed Rhaegar to queen's chambers.

"You look happier. In fact, you look happiest I have ever seen you." she told Rhaegar, as he embraced her.

"Oh, Mother! To be in love is everything bards described and more. I never believed such bliss existed in the world, yet, the gods have blessed me with the same." Rhaegar said. Indeed, his face is glowing with quiet happiness. It is such a stark contrast to his usual melancholy state, Rhaella could not help but stare. The happiness rendered his beautiful features even more ethereally beautiful.

"I could only envy Lady Lyanna's fortune. She must be a true queen of love and beauty, to move your heart so. She must look forward to the future a great deal. " Rhaella said leading Rhaegar to the settee.

She gestured the maid to pour drinks for both.

"Our family has harmed hers much, Rhaegar. I am sure, in time, she will recover from these grievances." She said gently, as she finished her drink. Rhaegar's face lost some of its happiness.

"I have not told her." Rhaegar said lowly.

Rhaella gestured for the kingsguard to leave.

"Rhaegar!" she gasped out in disbelief and chastisement.

"I could not see her in distress." Rhaegar told her.

"The love truly must be glorious, if you are going to such lengths to protect her." Rhaella stood up and moved to the balcony. A draft ran just behind it, thus whatever they spoke could not be listened to. She did not know where little birds are. Where ever they are, she can only avoid speaking.

"It is mother. If only I can share my happiness with the world." Rhaegar said longingly.

The bells tolled in great sept indicating the hour.

"I envy her much, your she wolf. She is born but a daughter of a lord, yet, she has known nothing but love and happiness. I am born princess of westeros, yet all I have known is sorrow and brutality." Rhaella said, as she moved closer to Rhaegar, as if seeking warmth of his person.

"Oh Mother. If only I can give you my Joy! I will in a moment." Rhaegar said kindly, taking her hands in to his.

"It is not to be, Rhaegar. Once upon a time, I thought such could be possible, but I know now, it is not. I am glad you found love. Take care of your she wolf. Beware of Elia. She is a good woman, but she is a snake all the same. She will hide in plain sight, strike when you least expect. Choose your friends carefully, enemies, even more cautiously. Know that I will always love you." Rhaella stopped to take a breath, caressing Rhaegar's cheek lovingly.

"Mother, why are you sounding like you are saying a goodbye? We will win this war. We have better numbers, better fighters and better commanders." Rhaegar said, holding Rhaella by her arms.

"Your father grows more unpredictable every day. Our win only serves to make my life just as unpredictable. I would rather say my farewell now, for we never know how a war turns out." Rhaella said sadly. It is apparent she has given up on her life. Rhaegar feared she might kill herself long before enemies come to slit her throat.

"Mother please! You must live." Rhaegar pleaded with tears in his eyes.

"Why? I have done my duty. I have given the king a heir, and a spare. I have known nothing but schemes and torment in my entire life. I have no great love to live for. You, my son, you have a new love in your life. I am needed no longer." Rhaella added sombrely. There is no sadness in her, only acceptance of an unchangeable truth.

"A child. You could be with a child." he pleaded desperately.

"I take moon tea. There is no child." Rhaella added with same unfeeling tone.

"I am still here. I love you. I need you." Rhaegar whispered in response, moving closer to the queen in supplication.

"Do you my son? I can never bring out the light in your eyes just so." Rhaella answered, moving closer to Rhaegar yet, caressing his lips, looking in to his eyes.

"Mother, please! Please! Please!" Rhaegar choked up, holding Rhaella's hands in supplication. His eyes begged her to stay alive with all of his being.

"No crying now, my love. Come! Kiss your mother one last time."Rhaella added, wiping tears of Rhaegar's cheeks, rising up to meet his lips.

Bran stood there, watching them, arrested by the ominous feeling building up in back of his head. This is wrong! All of his stark sensibilities screamed.

The kiss deepened between Rhaella and Rhaegar, losing any semblance to filial love.

No, Stop! Bran's mind screamed, but words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He stood there, transfixed, as he hoped against hope someone or something will interrupt the pair. No one came. The pair continued on, from balcony to bed. They fell asleep tangled with each other. There is no awkwardness between them after they finished, to indicate it is a singular occurrence.

He watched as the queen got up and took a tea that helped conceivement. He watched as the servant knocked on the door to inform queen of their impending departure to dragonstone. He watched as Rhaegar call her mother, yet treat her like a lover as he said his goodbyes. He watched as Rhaella step on that boat with spring in her step, without meeting Aerys a single time. He couldn't avoid the truth any more. For the first time after he has become three eyed raven, Bran felt an emotion to the tips of his frozen toes. Disgust.

Sansa arrived to the room just in time to see Bran lurch sideways, and vomit violently.

She called the maids, and set them to cleaning the room, even as Bran clung to her like he did when he is a child. His eyes filled with water, his hands shook uncontrollably. Sansa murmured assurances in his ear, patted his back, as she did when he was a child. Bran's eyes filled with determination as he let go of Sansa.

"I must tell you something." he told Sansa as he gestured to a seat.

The maids are sent away. Bran made sure there are no eavesdroppers of any kind, magical or otherwise.

He even made Sansa put the fire out, lest red priests see through flames.

Sansa's face grew more and more apprehensive as she observed Bran. She was happy at first. She thought for a moment her brother is back for good. Yet, there's an ominous feeling in the very air it self, she did not dare hope.

Then, Bran looked at her with eyes of her brother, not three eyed raven and told her every last thing he knew.

Sansa could barely hide her reaction. She stood there like a statue, praying her face did not betray what she is feeling inside. For the information only went from bad to worse. She has no idea how Jon will take this. She knew beyond doubt Jon and Dragon queen had been lovers. She also knew why Jon never slept around with any of the girls, other than her and the queen. It must be cursed luck, she opined. For what else could it be? To abstain, for you knew not which woman could be your mother or sister, then sleep with the only two girls in the whole wide world he should not touch.

This information will most definitely have an impact on him. She needed all her family to keep their wits about them in the coming war. For all her apparent upperhand, Sansa knew beyond doubt if dragon queen pressed her rights with force, all of her subjects and kin will die. There's naught to be done. The dragon queen knows it, Tyrion Lannister knows it, even Jon snow knows it. She kept her faith in the fact Daenerys Targaryen is not stupid enough to press for that kind of victory, for it will reduce army on both sides just enough for the others to win, or worse, Cersei.

She bet on a Targaryen being sensible. When has that ever happened in history, Sansa wondered. Last she remembered is during times of Aegon the good, who, sensibly realized north can never be held with militaristic force, sent enough help during winter. North remembered for a hundred years and more. Even he attempted to bring back dragons, killing almost entirety of his family. There is no telling what dragon queen would do knowing Jon had greater claim on iron throne. Yet, he must be told, she has decided. As late as possible. After every fact is confirmed beyond doubt.

She spent great deal of next morning questioning Bran. About simple things. How the fire looked in a certain room. What wind felt like. What it smelt like. What sort of dongles a door has. A thousand and one questions to prove what he has seen is but an illusion, but the only conclusion she can draw is Bran is telling truth. Now, the only clue to this is the servant. She had a painter called and took a detailed description of the servant's features, to be verified with the northern lords. She made Bran promise not to speak of the Daenerys's parents to any one.

She has mixed feelings about her meeting with Bran. On one hand, it looked like her brother's back. Yet, on the other hand, Bran seemed scared of three eyed raven's powers. By now, Sansa understood what ever Bran may have become, his powers are his own. He should not be afraid of a part of himself because of deeds of others. It is a point that resonated all too well with her, given how much she was afraid of her Stark blood in kingslanding. She vowed to never let her brothers feel the same.

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The time to dine with Gendry came faster than she expected. Gendry could not have looked more awkward if he tried. Yet, that only lasted until the arrival of Arya. once she is there, it is like he is a different man. He is a good friend of Jon, he got along well with Robb. Ser Davos seemed to treat him as his ward, even Brienne looked almost approving of the young man. Which, these days, is very hard to do. The conversation eventually turned to smithing of dragon glass.

"The biggest problem is that we can not melt it. We must carve. Smiths are too used to bashing, so we lose half the pieces as soon as we get them to look like arrows." Gendry lamented.

"Can we dab the iron swords in dragon glass powder?" Sansa asked.

She felt very dumb after the looks she received from all her siblings, with rueful smiles at her word choice.

"Why, we should probably put weirwood rouge on it too." Arya quipped with no venom.

The entire table chuckled at that, but Gendry looked contemplative.

"Do you think dragon fire will melt it?" Jon asked.

"Aye, it may. But we have no smithy where a dragon can breathe fire. Even if we do, do you think the dragon queen will allow her dragons to do help with some thing as lowly as smithing?"

"Then we do not ask the queen." Sansa said.

All heads turned to her, Jon looking most apprehensive of them.

"The dragons are as intelligent as direwolves, if not more. Why not ask them directly?" Sansa said.

The rest of the table looked nigh on shocked. Arya glared at her.

"Don't they burn any that come near them?" Gendry asked.

"Not all. They did not burn Lord Tyrion. They did not burn prince Jon. In fact, the people of dragon seed have more chances of not getting burned than rest. During dance of dragons, Netty the dragon seed has tamed a sheep stealer by bringing it a sheep every day." Maester wolkan answered this question.

"It is still a death trap." Arya hissed.

"Yes, it is. Perhaps we should first find how we can build such a smithy where dragons can breathe fire." Sansa quipped.

Maester wolkan looked most excited to tell them of a valerian smithy. Gendry listened with rapt attention, he even asked few questions which only seemed to delight maester furthermore. Jon and Robb listened with one ear, kept track of Sansa and Arya with another. When the discussion petered out, Sansa raised the real topic of this meal.

"I hear you are son of Robert Baratheon, Gendry." Sansa said conversationally.

Both Gendry and Arya stiffened.

"Our fathers wanted to tie our families together with marriage. In fact, there were two betrothal contracts made, none brought to fruition." Sansa added.

Before Gendry could so much as wipe the shock from his face, Robb spoke.

"Betrothals which brought much tragedy to our family." Robb said ominously.

"Aye. So, we will not have a betrothal contract this time. " Sansa said.

Arya looked a bit peeved, Jon befuddled. Gendry blushed to the tips of his hair.

"Stop trying to make me like you. I am not." Arya grumbled.

"I never said it should be you." Sansa said smugly.

"Are you courting my sister?" Jon asked Gendry, his voice dangerously low.

"I.. " Gendry spluttered.

"It's none of your business." Arya glared at Jon.

"Perhaps we are getting ahead of ourselves. The man never confessed to courting her. " Robb said teasingly.

"Are you courting my sister?" Jon repeated his question.

"Gendry, please tell the prince you are not." Ser Davos pleaded with him.

"Much as I would like to deny it, I am a bastard, your grace. Bastard blacksmiths do not court princesses." Gendry answered.

"That's not an answer." Jon glared at Gendry.

Robb intervened.

"Arya, are you courting this man?" He asked with subtle humor.

After all, from what he has seen, Princess Arya does not wait for any man to step up and guide her.

Arya glared at Robb, but her features softened some. Jon turned his eyes to Arya, looking sullen. As she looked at her brothers, both of them, as changed as they are, she could see in a way they are same. It filled her with an inner peace to look at her family so. She turned to Gendry.

"I wish to court you. What do you say?" she asked him.

Gendry spluttered. He looked at each and every one of the Starks, thinking they will tell him how they will make him suffer for dreaming as high as a princess, but all he saw was curiosity in their eyes. For a moment, it filled him with incredible sadness and envy. Even among small folk, such loving families are rare. It is nigh impossible to imagine a highborn family is capable of being this loving and supportive. When he travelled with Arya, he never could understand Arya's confidence in her brother's generosity. Now, looking at all of them like this, he understood all the more how much Arya must have missed her family, and how keenly she must have felt his abandonment of her. He made his decision.

"Yes, my lady." He answered sombrely.

Arya smiled at him, then turned to her family and wiggled her eyebrows in a mockery, as if saying, there, you have it.

"You both will get married tonight in the godswood." Sansa said in her cold queen voice.

"What?!" Gendry and Arya both spluttered.

"I am the queen, and it's an order. You were given freedom to choose your partner and only that. If you guys are to speak any more, it will only be to discuss what you are wearing to your wedding and naught else." Sansa threatened.

"We don't even know what kind of man he is." Jon said protesting, but even as he said it, one could see he did not expect to win against Sansa. Robb nodded his head, as if he agreed with Jon's point.

"He is the kind of man who ran two days straight with neither food nor water in worst snow storm to deliver a message to save his fellow men. He is the man who my sister who wants to be a knight likes. Is that not enough for you?" She asked both men.

They both looked sufficiently scolded at her words. In unison, they both turned to Gendry and nodded at him, who is already blushing at Sansa's words.

"Also, this marriage will remain confidential until such a time as both the princes return from their battles. We will know beyond doubt who it is that spread the information, if this were to become common knowledge. Won't we Bran?" Sansa asked conversationally.

The entire table turned to Bran, as if they are realizing for the first time he is there.

"Yes." Bran answered. The simple acquiescence from him sounded far more foreboding than any scary speech.

"The consequences for such person will not be pretty." Sansa added.

The entire table nodded.

"Now, I have a wedding dress that I made long ago, I can modify that fast enough to fit Arya. There is also a cloak she can use." Sansa said.

"There is a Fine Baratheon ensemble in the clothes recovered. Gendry can use that." Ser Davos said.

"Well, be in godswood by the end of hour of rabbit. We will come at the beginning of hour of wolf." Sansa said, looking at Arya.

"I am wearing my sword." Arya told her.

"I will not have it any other way, Sansa told her."

After that, everyone bustled off to their respective rooms, Jon and Robb flanking Gendry. They seem to have great pleasure in making the youth squirm. Bran went to his room, even he seemed to be a little cheerful about the upcoming wedding.

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On the other side of castle, Robb and Jon stood in front of Gendry, offering to cut his hair and shave his beard respectively, with very sharp daggers in their hands. Ser Davos stood to the side, trying to figure out pieces of clothing, is nose scrunched in concentration. He actually brought a needle and thread, and started adjusting the tunic himself. He measured Gendry's back again, avoiding the smith's beseeching eyes asking to save him.

"Oh, let them cut your hair lad. They know as well as you do they will answer to princess Arya if you are missing from the wedding." Ser Davos said after some time.

"Ser Davos!" Both Robb and Jon exclaimed.

"Moreover, they know just as well they will answer to queen Sansa if you arrive late." Ser Davos said to Gendry, with a meaningful glance at both Robb and Jon.

Both Robb and Jon pouted at that, though they will always hold that they did not pout for a single moment after they crossed the manly age of twelve.

They switched sides and Robb offered to cut his hair and Jon offered to shave his beard.

Gendry sighed.

Eventually, after one or twenty death threats laughed up as jokes, Robb and Jon deemed him sufficiently primped.

Ser Davos offered the doublet and the tunics, with Robb and Jon adjusting the order of shirts. These shirts are neither the silk that Renly used to wear, nor the utilitarian leather Stannis used to wear.

"They fit too perfectly." Robb noticed.

"Must have been your father's." Ser Davos said, with a glance at almost invisible wine stain in the back of the doublet.

Both Robb and Jon noted wearing these clothes, Gedry looked like a prince, far more than Joffrey Baratheon ever did.

Just as they were about to leave, Jon stopped them.

"You should wear your war hammer." Jon noted.

So, they left like that to Bran's room to collect him.

Bran lied in his chair unconscious, whites of his eyes showing.

All the males save Jon made to surround him, but Jon stopped them. They waited around Bran, according to Jon's instructions.

Then all of a sudden, Bran came alive, taking a large gulp of air.

"Steffon Baratheon" he breathed in.

"No, my prince, I am just Gendry." Gendry said, looking at him confusedly.

"You were born Steffon Baratheon." Bran said, looking at Gendry in wonderment.

"My mother worked in a tavern." Gendry insisted.

Bran kept staring at him.

"I am just Gendry the smith." Gendry persisted.

Bran looked as if he is understanding something for a moment.

"So you are." Bran agreed, smiling at him.

They set out to the godswood together, going there from the family wing.

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Sansa snagged Lyanna Mormont as she travelled towards Arya's chambers. Lyanna mormont is the only one of the nobles given a room in the family wing. It is done so out of convenience, but Sansa never corrected any who assumed it is done because of their preference for little Lyanna. That gave her enough say so in any northern meetings, so it is all good.

Any ways, all these are not the reason she brought Lady Lyanna in to fold. She is probably the only appropriate girl near by to act as Arya's bridesmaid. Sansa refused to take part in another wedding as anything other than spectator. Lyanna Mormont submitted to her administrations with the same grace as Arya.

"Why do I have to brush my hair?" they both asked, as she picked up a hair brush.

"Do I have to wear a gown?" They asked again as she set Arya's dress on the bed.

The only consolement Sansa has is surprisingly, both Lyanna and Arya are adept at needlework now. Not the impressive embroidery such as Sansa herself, but they excelled in basics. They finished hemming and adjusting Arya's dress in record time.

Sansa made both of them sit, Arya brushed Lyanna's hair, given she is the shortest, while Sansa brushed Arya's. Sansa is impressed at the simple but very neat buns Arya made for Lyanna. They suited her, moreover, they made her look like a bear. If the shine in Lyanna's eyes is anything to go by, then she liked it just as much. The servant Sansa sent to glass gardens arrived Just as they finished with the blue rose crown. Sansa tied gray ribbons to it herself.

She set the crown on Arya's head herself and stepped back a moment to take a look at her handiwork. Arya has grown in to a beautiful woman. She looked every inch a wolf princess as she has donned gray silk dress and wolfs fur cloak. Lyanna stood besides Sansa, and stared at her work just the same way.

"You look beautiful." Sansa told arya, her eyes a wee bit misty.

"Are you gonna cry?" Arya asked snootily, yet, the bite is lacking from that question.

"Mother would have loved to be here." Sansa said nostalgically.

"Mother would never have allowed me to be married to a bastard." Arya said sombrely.

"Father would have." Sansa said in reply.

"Aye." Arya said, her eyes becoming watery.

"They both would have been proud of you, for weathering the winter as you did." Lyanna mormont said. She is very wise for a eleven year old.

Sansa and Arya both smiled at her. All three of them revelled in a shared moment.

Sansa shooed them then, one shouldn't be late to their own wedding.

It is a full moon night, given how bright it is, they did not even need torches.

The moonlight added an ethereal beauty to both stark women.

They both shined like they are made of pearl dust. Moonlight rained and rolled of them in mist and glitter.

Snow on the ground sparkled like a thousand diamonds.

A light blush spread on Arya's face, as she entered clearing and looked at Gendry.

Bran was struck by how much Arya looked like their Aunt Lyanna, and how very much Gendry looked like Robert Baratheon.

There are no ravens in the heart tree.

Ghost stood besides Jon, looking like a snow sculpture. Sansa stood besides Jon, together they looked eerily like last Lady and Lord Stark. While Jon certainly is not king anymore, he still wore his crown to this occasion. It is a bit inappropriate, but nobody cared. Robb and Bran both wore a weirwood circlet on their heads. Gendry wore the bull's head helmet he made for himself. The winter rose crown belonged like she's born with it on Arya.

"Who comes?" Bran asked in that inhuman tone he seems to have every time he enters godswood.

"Arya Stark, a maiden flowered, trueborn and noble comes here to wed." Arya answered in strong voice, even if her eyes are preoccupied with Gendry.

"Who takes her?" Bran asked.

Gendry stepped forward.

"I, Gendry of house Baratheon." he answered. Bran felt something change in godswood halfway in between, but he concentrated on task at hand.

"Do you take this man maiden of Stark blood?" Bran asked turning to Arya.

"Yes. I will." Arya answered, breaking in to a smile.

Gendry grinned at her.

"I pronounce you man and wife, cursed be the one who splits you apart." Bran said in the same inhuman voice.

The Joy on the newlywed's face as they moved to kiss each other warmed hearts of entire assembly. Tears of happiness ran on Sansa's cheeks, Jon and Robb smiled, even Lyanna Mormont looked a bit girly as she smiled at the newly weds.

It is then he turned to the presence he sensed earlier. It was a man, who looked undeniably Stark, in fact, he looked like he is a Lord Stark. Bran, remembering the questions Sansa asked him earlier in the day, noted his way of dressing and sword, which looked very similar to Ice. The man faded away before Bran can finish his examination.

It is only then he noticed the little boy besides him, who was watching the wedding with rapt eyes.

The boy turned to Bran and smiled at him.

"In dreams, I can see." the boy told him, looking longingly at the Starks.

Bran tried note down the sigil on boy's shirt, but he couldn't make it out clearly. It looked like a triangle of dots, the boy vanished before Bran could make out any more details.

The assembly then moved to the dining hall they left, where a new feast is set, with oatcakes, almond toffee and arbor gold, all decadent dishes, best of winterfell, for the truly felicitous occasion this marriage is. As the night fell, Sansa guided them personally to their new family suite. Gendry was to leave some of his stuff in smiths chambers, even if he is not going to sleep there any more. The party wished them good night, and left to their own chambers.

Jon followed Sansa to hers. There are no witnesses of any kind, but Sansa is surprised he would do that. Sansa by all means welcomed the gesture, but she did not expect it, given Jon's general squeamishness yesterday. She kind of assumed Dragon queen is Jon's love of life, and he will go back to her regardless. Yesterday's night was magical, but Sansa assumed it is only for her. Was it so for Jon too? Did he come simply because he loved her, or does he have ulterior motives, she could not help but wonder.

There are no maids to be had for the nightly ritual. Sansa only kept the last one for as long as she did because she was littlefinger's spy, and she needed him to be at ease. Usually, Sansa undid her own dress, given this is no complex southern concoction, it's not as hard either. Yet, to day, Jon came behind her, helping with her cloak & overdress. Sansa turned to him in her shift.

She undid his cloak, hung it besides hers. Jon did not say a thing.

As she started undoing his doublet, she felt his fingers trace her face, then her neck. She raised her head to look in to Jon's eyes.

He kissed her. It's a sweet kiss, the kind that lingers, with affection and familiarity. It's the kind of kiss a husband gave his wife, after returning from a hunt, or after a long day of work.

Sansa smiled at him and continued undoing his doublet.

Jon watched her lazily, his hands playing with her hair. Sansa liked the way he ran his fingers through her hair.

Jon sat on the bed and removed his own boots. Sansa slowly unlaced his breeches, nothing the way his breath is caught in his throat. It gave her a strange sense of satisfaction to know she has this much power over him.

Soon, they both were in the bed naked, and exploring each other's bodies lazily. Jon kissed a path down from Sansa's ears to her navel. Sansa gently bit and sucked the skin on Jon's neck. Jon groaned in response. Sansa slid her hands down at that. Jon kissed her roughly rolling them over at the same time. He parted her thighs and slid into her slowly. They have entire night to do this, and nights are long, in winter. No need to rush.

Sansa tried to cajole him to go fast, when that did not work, she begged him to go faster and harder. Yet, he did not. He wanted to savor her body, savor this moment for a long time. He silenced her with a kiss as she finally gave in, they both came apart at the same time. It was a bliss like nothing else. So, they did it again, and again, until they knew each other's bodies like a well read book. It felt like a new beginning and fare well at the same time. It filled their hearts with indescribable warmth to just lie in each others embrace like this.

"Would you have married Gendry if Arya did not?" Jon asked her just as she is about to drift off.

Sansa blinked sleepily.

"I may court a thousand men, but I will not marry any man that's not you." She told Jon.

"I wish you'd not court any man." Jon whispered into the night, Sansa fast asleep by his side.

Sansa just snuggled into him, fast asleep by then.

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Daenerys Targaryen is antsy.

She has been expecting Jon to drop by her chambers any time, yet he did not. She thought to drop him a hint at dinne. Starks are missing at dinner. She was informed when she got to the great hall, she is presiding over the feast alone, with her advisers, and her handmaiden. Every one stood, but no one knelt. The formalities were kept to fastidiously at the beginning, but it's a lesson she would not forget easily. Every last northern lord frowned at her when she made to sit on weirwood throne.

She is gently, but firmly directed to a decidedly more ornate and bigger looking chair, yet, Dany could not help but feel the insult. The weirwood throne is kept empty, for that belonged to Stark of winterfell. It's a sorry looking chair too. Dany herself knew better than to sit on such an ordinary looking chair to preside over her court. At first, she did not think about it at all. Then, she started noticing all the subtle ways it mattered.

When northern lords stand, they stand facing or deferring to the empty chair, almost unconsciously. When servants arrive to serve, their steps automatically slow from the throne, as if they made to serve the empty chair first. When she left the great hall, she had it announced she will be available for any audiences and pleas till supper. Yet, there were no visitors for her. Varys and Tyrion told her again and again north bends for no one but a Stark, but she did not believe it entirely. After all, Red Wedding would not have happened provided all of northern lords are loyal before anything.

At the same time, Tyrion and Varys are having their own freakout. Earlier in the morning, Tyrion planted himself right besides Samwell, observing the men and women Sansa ordered Samwell train, both in arts of healing, ravenry and metallurgy. The men and women have been selected from all walks of life. Tyrion tried his best to remember their faces. It's not an easy task, given how many of them wanted to take his head off. Tyrion never thought he would come to respect another man, much less a woman, in the art of administration.

When Sansa initially crowned herself, he thought she has learned but the cheap tricks from Cersei. He believed one fine day, Sansa will overextend herself, and get her head chopped off the same way like her father. The more time he spent in winterfell, more he came to doubt that notion. Yes, it made great sense to train these men and women in arts of maesters, but they made equally good spies. He would not have moved from there if Varys did not drag himself all the way to top of library tower to stand besides Tyrion.

"Lord Varys." Tyrion greeted curtly. This is a bad time. There is much happening here, that Tyrion must take note with his own eyes.

"Lord Tyrion, may I interest you in some tea? Or perhaps ale if you prefer a drink?" Varys asked genially.

"Some tea, then, my lord." Tyrion responded, knowing ale is in short supply and it will not be available at this time of the day.

Starks fed their lords and servants the same thing in winter, no one complained about it, for it is the norm.

In fact, it made dining surprisingly more palatable.

Tyrion seated himself at the table, pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Do you know if a young smith in the castle, called Gendry?" he asked without preamble.

"Why, yes, Lord Varys. He's the one Arya Stark is sweet on, isn't he?"

"He is Robert Baratheon's get." Lord Varys said simply.

"And an innocent child. I very much doubt he even knows he is late king's bastard." Tyrion said dismissively.

Varys only stared at him. Tyrion frowned.

"It's a strange choice of words, Robert Baratheon's get, not Robert Baratheon's bastard." Tyrion said, looking at Varys askancely.

It seems he has found the correct line of thought.

"How ever, that would be impossible. Cersei gave birth to only one black haired child, who died in his infancy." Tyrion said, looking at Varys, who only looked more relieved at the words. Worry began to gnaw in Tyrion's stomach. This is bad. What kind of game is Varys trying to play?

"How could you know that? Do you have witnesses?" he asked, even as his mind worked in circles trying to understand spyder's motives for playing this card now.

"There are no witnesses save for myself. I made the switch." Varys answered.

"Lord Varys, I am sorry to inform you in this manner, but your word alone is not sufficient regarding such matters. I am sure you knew as much before you informed me. Why did you inform me at all?" Tyrion asked him.

"Brandon Stark has a way of knowing secrets which by all avenues of common sense have no chance coming into light." Varys said, looking peeved.

"Dany asked you if you were hiding anything else from her." Tyrion said, for the sake of it.

"I thought the boy dead, thus inconsequential." Varys answered.

"What made him capable of consequences now?" Tyrion asked, even as he asked, he knew the answer. Arya Stark's sweet on the boy. Gendry Baratheon, bastard son or otherwise had no consequences on his own. Gendry Baratheon, husband of a Stark princess could very well become a threat.

"The Starks are not so desperate they would marry a trueborn lady to a smith." Tyrion hedged. He sounded doubtful even as he said that.

"Have you met Princess Arya, my lord?" Varys asked sarcastically.

"Yes. She herself would be the greatest obstacle to such marriage. She wants to be a knight. I doubt she will ever willingly marry any man, much less a bastard smith." Tyrion answered with more surety.

"Just so. Unless a lady who dearly wants heirs pushes them to." Varys answered.

Tyrion fell into thought. This is a clusterfuck of gigantic proportion. If his heritage were to come to light, it will be a problem. If they were to deny the boy Storm's end, it sets a very dangerous precedent that will have lords flocking to Cersei's side. If they were to declare him a Baratheon and give him Storm's end, it comes under Stark control. The boy's loyalty is set for Starks beyond control already. Perhaps he could be weaned from Sansa's influence, but Tyrion doubted that greatly. For all their differences, Stark sisters have a strange intimacy. Sansa sets bait, Arya fells the beast. It's a dangerously effective combo. Worse yet, Tyrion already felt hunted.

"We need to inform the queen." he said.

Varys looked apprehensive, but nodded his head all the same.

Dany looked furious when they finished.

"I have asked you before if you are hiding anything else from me." Dany ground out.

"I thought the boy dead long since, your grace. Please forgive me." Varys said fearfully.

"Whom are you loyal to, Lord Varys?" Dany asked, her voice taking a dangerous lilt.

Varys looked right in to Dany's eyes, and lied.

"To you, your grace." he answered.

"Yet you hide such a threat from my eyes?" Dany asked angrily.

"A threat I have informed you of, as soon as I am aware of it, your grace." Varys answered.

"I will trust you this time, Lord Varys. But know this. Next time such an oversight happens, it will be your head." Dany said with a finality.

Varys nodded his head gratefully, as if he could not believe his luck.

"You will clean up this mess yourself, Lord Varys. Make sure the boy does not remain a threat by the time great battle is over. Let him know the life of a runaway royal with no power. Lord Tyrion, make sure Lord Varys gets all the resources he needs." Dany said, her eyes gleaming with intent.

"Your grace, the boy is innocent." Lord Tyrion protested.

"So was I, my lord, when I was running from assassins sent by Robert Baratheon." Dany responded.

Tyrion looked like he wanted to protest more, but he held his tongue.

"We have much to do in the coming war my lords, we can not have petty concerns get in the way of that." Dany told them, before she retired to her chamber.

Tyrion and Varys exchanged a glance as she left. Neither of them are comfortable with what they were ordered to do. The boy is too close to Starks for his death to be either unnoticed or inconsequential. It is rumored Arya Stark has single handedly ended the Freys. Varys did not want Dany's young kingdom die the same way. Thus, Tyrion and Varys simply made a pact that they will never inform their queen of their non-action about this issue. Too bad said queen made other arrangements.

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The day dawned wee bit colder than bone biting cold, Gendry cursed his stupid idea of getting out of the bed to take a bath in hot springs once more. Last night was amazing. He dreamed of many things since meeting Arya at winterfell. He never would have thought he would marry a princess, but here is, husband of one. Now, If only he hadn't gotten the bright idea of starting the day early in hopes of getting some more time during noon. Then he spotted it, the stones with steam rising in between them.

The stones were encircling a wide patch of smooth peaks in between them. The water bubbled in the pool, almost all the smooth peaks in middle are covered with a thick moss. Gendry choose a nice stable rock at edge to leave his clothes at, entered the pool. Since the time from dragon stone, he learned swimming, but he is not good at it. He can stay upright, and right now, it looked as if the pool is just enough deep for him to stand to his waist. He submerged himself and sighed in to water. Then suddenly the earth moved under his feet, along with the stone he is leaning against.

Gendry held on to the nearest jutting rock for his dear life. He hasn't lived this bloody long to die now when all his dreams have come true. No way in the hell he is going to die. That is the only thought in his mind as the earth moved up and tried shaking him off like a barnacle, when finally it stopped. Gendry opened one eye first, then another. He did not understand quite what happened immediately, for the dawn's first light is just breaking up, every thing is just various shades of gray. He just sat, in exhaustion.

When he realized with the increasing light it was not earth underneath his feet at all but a dragon head, he is struck dumb. The dragon slowly retreated into water, instead of laying it's head on the ice. Then he felt movement under his feet, then suddenly water is steaming all around him again. The dragon is cold too, he realized suddenly. It filled him with a strange sense of camaraderie with the dragon. Here they are, two creatures of summerlands, searching for a little bit of warmth.

Just like that, he gained his equilibrium back. What is it Arya always said? Fear cuts deeper than sword. Control your fear. You are as immense as mountain, as calm as a still lake, the thought to himself, as he relaxed against horn of the dragon. Now, how to get out of this predicament alive? He tried remember conversation from yesterday's dinner. Dragons are intelligent creatures, as much or more than direwolves. Lord Tyrion talked to them and they let him get away without burning him. But then, Lord Tyrion's talking is legendary. He had to try, if nothing else. What do we say to god of death? Not To day. Gendry reminded himself firmly.

"Hello. I am Gendry." he said out loud and waited.

Obviously, there's no response. The Dragon Queen liked her titles. May be her dragons are like that too? From all he has heard, Stark direwolves are very similar to their masters.

"Hello Dragon Rhaegal, I am Gendry." he said this time, with much confidence.

The dragon moved gently in the water, just swaying side to side. Gendry held his balance.

"I did not know when I entered the pool that you were already here. Jon snow told me hottest of the hot springs are in godswood. I thought this is one, given there's steam rising from it in this kind of cold. You see, I was feeling just as cold as you did." he told the dragon. He wasn't sure whether the dragon heard him or not. Suddenly, there's another movement underneath him, and he felt a hot flash running through the floor. Steam started rising from the pool again. The dragon moved in a circle in the small pool, neither fast nor slow.

"Did you just breath underwater? By the gods, that must be hot, to be able to breathe fire underwater. I bet you could melt dragon glass right into the kiln. Oh, that would make it so much easier to work with it. We can even take Lady Sansa's suggestion, and just dip the iron sword in dragon glass. Or temper the glass with iron. I heard Valyrian forges used dragons to melt their steel. They chained them underneath the kiln, to keep fire going." Gendry sucked in a breath as he realized what he said.

"But I will never do that to a dragon. To be in prison is unbearable, how much ever nice the prison may be. It gets so dark and silent, then all the ghosts you know of and don't know of come to talk to you about kings blood and what not. I will never wish that fate on any one, much less something as majestic as a dragon." Gendry babbled on.

The heat, the euphoria from the day before, and just the immediate relief that he is not about die made him talkative. Soon, he forgot why he is talking at all. He poured out his heart to the Dragon, in that way you can only do with strangers, under the guise of anonymity. He told his entire life story, it is only as he came to the end he remembered why he doing this at all.

"I wish you will one day know the happiness I know now with Arya. That is the reason I can not die. I waited far too long for this moment. Please don't eat me when I get off you. I am your brother in arms. If you let me live, I will even be .. " Gendry stopped there, thinking what he could say.

He can not say family, for Daenerys Targaryen called dragons her children, and he has a sibling in the way of drogon.

".. friend. " Gendry figured that is something he can indeed do.

"Friends keep each other's secrets and always come to each other's aid." he finished, giving the dragon a pat on where he is sitting.

The dragon rumbled from underneath him. Gendry took it as a good sign and jumped of Dragon's head to the snow and ice, started dressing quickly.

The cold air only felt balmy after such long exposure to heat. The dragon submerged itself deeper into pool, breathed out more fire.

The pool bubbled all over and the dragon swirled lazily on the top of water once more.

Gendry stood there and watched the dragon. It is much more scary to look at one up close. Whenever the dragon swirled on top of water, it is like there is a rain of green and gold, the effect only increased with mist rising from its body.

"Fare well. See you tomorrow." Gendry said and started walking towards the castle.

The dragon lifted it's head out of the pool and crawled to bar Gendry's path. He looked at the being, wondering what it wanted. Then the dragon extended it's snout, all the way to Gendry, nudging him backwards. It must be experiencing so many life altering events in too short span of a time that brought out that moment of utter madness in him.

Gendry stood up from where he slid to, shook the snow off to stand. The dragon stayed there, it's maw moving even more forward. He is married to woman he has loved almost from the moment he saw her, overcoming a great many obstacles. He has a loving family, trusted friends, a respected mentor and even an odd little brother, who is beloved, despite being odd. He is happy. The dragon will never be able to take that away from him, even if it were to burn him now. That is what he wanted to tell the dragon, with all of his being. He let the contentment and determination wash over him, as he walked towards the dragon.

He put his palm against the dragon, and pushed back, with all the determination in him. Yet, the moment he did, a spark passed between the dragon and man. Gendry felt such loneliness wash over him, he would have collapsed to his feet, if they weren't locked by the strength he was putting on them earlier. He did not know a dragon can do this. It is the all encompassing loneliness he felt when he thought Arya is dead. He would have keeled over and offered himself up as a meal for the dragon, had he not experienced such loss before and survived.

Thus, that survival is what he focussed on. Then there is the saying Arya always says. Valar morghulis. Valar dohaeris. Everything dies when time comes. The living, must grieve and move on. In time, the loneliness will pass. He still has loved ones. He still has a duty to realm. In their absence, he still knows those who died before him would have wanted him to live. Gendry focussed on that feeling, and slowly, the crippling loneliness ebbed away. He blinked eyes to clear the tears, which fell right on top Rhaegal's snout, and sizzled away.

Gendry stood there, half balanced on the green dragon's snout, slowly trying to understand what happened. The dragon did not stand on all fours like before, but flopped on the ground, as if it doesn't have any energy in it's legs. The snow slowly raised in to steam all around the dragon. It is then Gendry understood. He connected with the dragon, the way the skinchangers of north did.

The loneliness is what dragon is feeling, it never intended to harm him. He has heard time and again dragons are intelligent creatures, but it is entirely different to knowing first hand how near to humans they are. The loneliness and the loss the dragon felt.. No, Rhaegal felt, is for the loss of his brother. The dragon is lonely, scared and cold, in a land completely unfamiliar, among all this, it has lost it's brother. Gendry felt sorry for Rhaegal. Gendry at least had Arya.

"You can cry. You are not weak for crying. I will be here with you." he said, stroking Rhaegal's nose.

The tears rolled of Rhaegal's eyes, when they fell on snow covered ground, they burned through the snow. Gendry stood in front of the dragon, stroking it's nose. That is how Bran found them. In the true odd little brother style, he did not even look surprised.

He just gestured the wheelchair to be rolled nearer to the dragon, touched his forehead to the dragon's. Rhaegal surprisingly made no effort to move away from Bran either. After a long time, Bran removed his forehead from the dragon's, looked at Gendry with surprisingly bright eyes. For a fleeting moment, Gendry saw the sweet boy Bran could be, rather than unsettling three eyed raven.

"I will stay with him for now. We have much to talk about." Bran told without preamble.

Gendry said his farewells to Rhaegal as best as he could, then left contemplating valyrian forges, if he can indeed ask Rhaegal instead of Daenerys to help him, like Sansa suggested.

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Sansa woke up in Jon's arms. It is the best nap she had in a long while, so she cherished the feeling of safety and happiness for a moment longer. Jon opened his eyes before she can so much as twitch, and smiled at her sleepily.

"This is the best morning I ever had." he told her, even as his hands moved to trace curve of her hip again.

"Me too." Sansa added sweetly.

No wonder her mother got fooled into thinking songs and knights are true, if this is the kind of happiness she had for number of years.

They laid in each other's embrace as they heard the keep come alive slowly, but steadily.

It's almost as if their childhood. An all pervading peace spread over the keep, one would think it is any other day in life at winterfell.

Soon, they both were getting ready for the day, but there is a calmness to their mien, that none but the most familiar with them will notice.

Daenerys Targaryen has decided to inspect the outer keep, a request Sansa has obliged, and Lord Tyrion has prompted her to invite her to lunch. Sansa, again gave in grudgingly. She had received timely updates nevertheless. The inspection is another name for Dany meeting various northern lords. Sansa let her. On her own, Dany has a way of getting on to everyone's nerves. Between her long list of titles and her utter belief in righteousness of her actions, she almost always made mistakes that had people running away from her. Unfortunately, this particular inspection happened on the day Jaime Lannister arrived at winterfell, alone.

"What is the meaning of this, Ser Jaime?" Dany asked angrily.

She is starting to realize three betrayals are far too small a number. Since the moment she arrived at westeros, she has had setback after setback. Perhaps her father has had the right idea. She should just burn them all, and establish a new order.

She turned to Tyrion stiffly.

"This can not be borne. The last horde's of Dothraki will turn back and besiege KingsLanding." Dany ordered, to Tyrion.

"Seize him." she told her blood riders.

Tyrion has been with Dany long enough to know the word.

"Your grace, we have no authority to arrest anyone in winterfell." he told her loudly, for the benefit of their northern guides.

Had it been yesterday, the northern lords would have taken the attitude of asking for forgiveness rather than permission, but now they knew better than to try that with Queen Sansa. They can not have their queen's authority subverted quite in plain sight. Thus, they moved to protect Ser Jaime very reluctantly, facing their backs to neither the Lannister, nor the blood riders.

"Your grace, we like to see kingslayers head roll just as much as you do. How ever, Queen Sansa must be in accord before you arrest him." Cley Cerwin intoned, quite gently, but firmly. Even Daenerys can't fault with such diplomacy, and she by no means can have one of the northern lords die on her watch, so she called off her blood riders. Ser Jaime and Tyrion shared a look full of exasperation at the other's chosen queen.

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Sansa bet every last dreg of her lumpy soup that no news travelled as fast in winterfell as the arrival of Ser Jaime and his altercation with dragon queen. Dany arrived half an hour before lunch, disrupting Sansa's schedule. Ser Jaime is every bit as cocky as she has remembered. Brienne gasped at seeing him, but smoothed it as a cough fast enough. Even so, a bloodrider or two caught sight of the expression, and they gestured to each other mockingly, but uttered no words.

"Ser Jaime." Sansa greeted him blandly.

"Your grace." Jaime greeted, surprisingly with out any sarcasm.

"We heard you are supposed to come here with a southern army." Sansa said lightly. At least, now other's plan about whitehill will be rendered somewhat moot.

"I am here as a soldier, my lady, not a commander of men." Jaime answered uncomfortably. Sansa's confidence kind of unsettled him. The change in the girl is nothing short of miraculous. She exuded authority and calmness in a way Cersei has never been able to. No wonder his sister was scared of Sansa Stark. Then his gaze travelled across the assembled company. He stumbled as if he has seen a ghost, as Gendry and Arya entered the room together.

"Lyanna? Robert?" Jaime asked tentatively.

It's a good thing none of the old lords are around him, save for ser Davos.

"Didn't you say only dead bodies come alive? Do the dead come alive too?" he asked fearfully.

It's a credit to Sansa that she did not laugh.

"This is my sister Arya, and our armourer for the war, Gendry." Sansa introduced her sister and her husband.

They both turned to Jaime with equally hateful eyes.

Jon rushed in to the room at this moment, settling on right side of Sansa.

Jaime looked between Jon and Sansa, equally surprised.

"By the gods, you look far too much like your parents." he said, looking between all of them.

Sansa surmised he must be extremely tired and probably a bit hypothermic too, to be this talkative.

Daenerys could hold no longer.

"My lady, We need to arrest this man for the crimes he committed." she said.

"We need all good men we can have your grace. Ser Jaime is one of the best, even after loss of his sword hand." Sansa said breezily.

"That being said, I agree there must be a trial and a penance." Sansa added before dragon queen could explode. If there's one thing Sansa knew about Lannister brothers, it is that they loved each other too much. If she can drive a wedge between Tyrion and Daenerys, the Dragon queen will go down that much faster.

Sansa rounded up a panel fast. She nominated Lyanna mormont, Daenerys nominated Missandei. For the neutral party, Sansa chose Lord Royce, Dany denied the choice and suggested Hardying. Sansa could see her plot clearly. Dragon queen seemed to have belatedly realized the regard Tyrion had for his brother. If ser Hardying were to choose death sentence for Jaime, she will blame it on his partiality for Sansa, otherwise, she will congratulate her self on the ingenuity of choosing right person to judge with such little acquaintance.

The trial started immediately. Brienne asked to speak on behalf of Jaime Lannister, and she spoke truthfully. Tyrion asked to speak on behalf of Jaime, but was denied from all three judges, even from Missandei. In south, usually judgement is given at this point, yet, in north, the panel always asked questions.

"Ser Jaime, describe the events of day of sacking of kingslanding." Lyanna said officiously.

"What does it matter? You have deemed me guilty, just get on with it." Jaime snarked.

Tyrion, who has looked hopeful at the question looked crestfallen at Jaime's answer.

Sansa intervened before someone more hot headed could say something irreversible.

"I suggest you answer the judges questions to the best of your ability ser Jaime. We will thank you to not hold us to same standards of morality as your queens." Sansa said coldly.

Jaime looked at her stubbornly. Sansa held his gaze just as coldly. Jaime blinked and turned away after awhile. He has never been able to hold the glaring match well.

"I stabbed the king in the back." Jaime said without preamble.

"I believe that does not answer Lady Lyanna's question, Lannister." ser Harold spat. He tried to keep the anger and disgust from his voice, but he did not quite succeed.

Lyanna Mormont picked up fast enough.

"Indeed, it does not answer my question. I will start from the time you received orders for your shift. The events as they happened, none of your attitude, Lannister." Lyanna said coldly.

Jaime looked a bit surprised at the coldness in the girl's voice, as well as authority. He played the same stubborn glare game with Lyanna Mormont and lost, again. Sansa saw a hint of amusement pass through Tyrion's face, before it's replaced with anxiety.

"I had the evening shift that day. I was to guard king. I was to stand besides the king for the watch, but king asked to close all entrances to the throne room, and keep watch outside the only entrance. After an hour, news came my father army started sacking kingslanding. I was sure that they will come to kill the king, so I went inside to persuade the king to leave with me. The king disagreed, and ordered me to bring him the hand. The hand of the king during that time was Rossart. I sent an apprentice of Rossart to bring him to the king, and informed the king, hand is sent for. The king ordered me to go out into fighting, and bring him Tywin Lannister's head. He wanted me to prove my loyalty beyond doubt. I came out, Rossart greeted me at the door. I did not quite want to bring my Lord father's head, so I lingered in the corridor along with Rossart's apprentice. Rossart is as obsessed with wildfire as the king. I heard him say to his apprentice;- Quickly, Boy! We are going to light all the fires. Finally the world will see my masterpiece, it will be glorious. It will be sung about for thousands of years. - They turned the corridor, and saw me. So I asked him what his masterpiece is. The apprentice answered before Rossart can. He said they are going to cleanse city in wildfire, it will never smell of shit again. I asked them wouldn't that need a lot of wild fire, and lot of people to light it. Rossart smiled and told me he has it all figured out. It needs only one person to light it, for the wildfire caches are connected through underground tunnels. Apprentice told me to come join him on the ship, It will be the best pyrotechnic show I have seen in my life. I told him it will be a pity, that they do not get to see it. Rossart understood my meaning and started running. I cut him down. The apprentice made few more steps, and quite fast too, so I cut his leg. He said as he was dying the show will go on. For there are a great many alchemists and pyrotechnicians, but only one kingsguard. I walked back to the throne room. The king asked me whose blood it was. I told him the truth. The king then turned and tried to run, I stabbed him in the back. I sat on the iron throne, and waited for someone to comeby. From there, I believe everyone knows what happened." Jaime finished.

All judges asked few questions to verify the facts from Tyrion, and lord Royce, for former knew about the wildfire in kingslanding, later about sack of kingslanding. In the end, they convened for few minutes, then announced they have a verdict. Sansa nodded her head in acquiescence. The panel proceeded.

"We call the king on Iron throne protector of the realm. Just as a soldier becomes a turncoat when he abandons his army, a king is no more a king when he turns his back on realm. Your oath to protect the king is meaningless from the moment Aerys decided to kill all those people. I find you, not guilty. Moreover, I thank you, on behalf of north, for I am sure many of our parents were in kingslanding that night." Lyanna said seriously.

The northern lords nodded their heads somberly. After all, many of the lords were there, for the rest, at least one of their parents were there in kingslanding.

Jaime looked on in shock. He never expected anyone to know or be grateful for what he did. It only dawned on him now, that the northern army was in kingslanding at the time. Had the city been lighted up, almost all northern houses would have lost their lords.

Ser Hardying spoke next.

"When a knight kneels to offer service, the lord promises to ask no service of him which dishonors him. Kinslaying is the vilest of the sins, you were not bound by oath any more once your lord asks it of you. You only did your duty as a knight. I find you not guilty." Ser Hardying said. Much of the vale knights looked proud of him.

"When in Mereen, I asked Lord Tyrion not to negotiate with slavers. For in their eyes, slaves were no more than cattle, some times, even less. A man who is willing to burn people is nothing but a slaver. We do not suffer a slaver to live. Much as I regret how this hurts my queen, she only asked me to judge fairly. It is a disservice to do any less. Ser Jaime Lannister, I do not find you guilty." Missandei finished.

Tyrion whopped and clapped, but rest of the hall is not as exuberant.

Sansa's voice cut through his celebrations.

"Ser Jaime, We will hold the trial for your crimes against house Stark in the godswood." Sansa informed them, then cool as a cucumber, she broke up party for lunch.

Jaime is far more apprehensive and scared of this trail than previous.

Tyrion and Jaime trudged to godswood in biting cold. Varys, a bloodrider and Missandei accompanied them.

Tyrion always felt a bit unsettled in the godswood. The feeling multiplied as they made the trek towards the Heart tree.

Very strangely, Missandei looked content. Not at all unsettled or awkward.

Jaime became more and more timid as they walked towards the heart tree. He looked spooked, as if the very trees are going to come alive and kill him.

Tyrion patted his hand in reassurance. Jaime smiled woodenly in response. The stiffness of his smile is an indicator of how afraid he is. He looked more like a man walking towards execution than before.

The Starks were waiting for them at Heart tree. The procession of accused stopped for a moment as they took in the sight. Sansa and Jon sat besides each other, Sansa with an weirwood crown on her head. Gendry and Arya stood behind Bran, flanking him. Robb and Ser davos stood behind Jon, Brienne and Sandor stood behind Sansa. Ghost laid at their feet, looking alert but relaxed. The sight is arresting.

For the first time, Tyrion truly comprehended how dangerous Starks are. It's just one of those little tidbits of information that you always knew in your head, but you don't quite understand their true measure. Like his fathers hatred for him. The Starks looked as if they are very part of the nature. There is an ease to them, a sublime sense of rightness to the picture that contrasted sharply to uneasiness of Tyrion, skittish ness of Jaime. The bloodrider and missandei looked positively content besides Lannisters.

"Jaime Lannister." Sansa called out coldly. She is doing a lot of that lately, Tyrion mused. Does she practice it, he wondered.

"It's ser Jaime Lannister, actually." Jaime answered, every bit insolent as he ever is, but Tyrion could tell he is desperately trying to cover up his fear. What is he so afraid of, Tyrion wondered. The entire world knows his misdeeds, even if he has never confessed to any one.

"You are accused of pushing Brandon Stark out of a window, resulting in loss of his legs. What have you to say for yourself?" Sansa just ploughed on.

Jaime looked as if he resigned himself. There are no good motives for doing what he has done.

"I am guilty." he said, and left it at that.

He expected Starks to become raving mad and ask for his head, or at least one of them to bring their sword out. None did. Utter silence reigned in the goodswood, whispers of wind calling for his blood more eagerly than Starks them selves.

"You are supposed bring your army to fight against others. What of them?" Jon asked, his voice deceptively calm.

Tyrion tensed in response, while his queen is all fire when angry, the Starks are all ice. That is the calm before storm, not a case of forgiveness.

" I believe the exact words you said were - all fighting men are welcome, your grace." Jaime snarked.

The silence encompassed the clearing once more. Jaime grew more and more fidgety, Tyrion equally so. Tyrion would have broken the silence had they been anywhere but here, but he felt scared to speak in front of heart trees. He is a kinslayer, while it felt like justice then, he couldn't help but be scared here in front of these merciless tree gods. Worse yet, these tree gods seem to have a far more powerful priest in young Brandon. Just as he couldn't bear it no more, Jaime broke it.

"Take my head, if you want. Be done with it. Here, you can even do it with your father's sword." he said, throwing his sword at their feet.

None of them moved to pick up the sword. Sansa continued to stare at both of them silently.

Tyrion kicked Jaime in the shins before he can open his mouth again.

"Shut it, Jaime." he whispered.

It is then Sansa spoke.

"We indeed want your head, Ser Jaime." She said.

"Your grace, my brother has already lost a hand, .." Tyrion began but she held up a hand.

"I know how your brother lost his hand, Lord Tyrion. I assure you, it is for his own vanity and stupidity he lost it, not as a penance." Sansa said evenly. Tyrion fell silent. He cursed the Starks for choosing godswood as place of trial, for there is something here in the very air that stopped him from being his usual confident self.

"You were also correct, we welcomed all fighting men. You will not lose your head to day. You will however, pay penance for your crime against house Stark. You will give up an equally crippling part of yourself."

"Perhaps you are unaware of it because they don't teach it ladies, your grace, but one cannot fight without any hands." Jaime said sarcastically, brimming with anger.

"There! That golden Lannister mask you wear, ser, you will remove that mask permanently. I believe that's penance enough." Sansa intercepted before he can work himself into a tantrum.

Shock rippled through the clearing. Jaime is speechless, while Missandei and the lone bloodrider looked on in confusion. They did not understand how or why it's a punishment at all. Tyrion did understand. Even he is struck silent from the audacity of what Sansa asked for.

"My lady, not even kings and queens have the authority of stripping a man of his own name." he belted out, but his words sounded hollow even to his ears.

"I am aware. If you repent at all, Ser Jaime, lay down your golden mask in front of the gods. I will accept nothing less as penance. We will come for your head once the war is over. You will be cursed as an oathbreaker till end of your life, die a honorless death when stranger comes for you at last." Sansa said brooking no argument.

"The black! He can take the black." Tyrion said frantically.

Sansa looked at Tyrion with pity.

"If you were to take the cowards way out, I will not hold it against you, Ser." Sansa said looking straight at Jaime.

Tyrion glared at Sansa for those words. Now he knew beyond doubt Jaime will not take the black. Even so, he had to try.

"The black brothers are first line of defense for greatest battle in ten thousand years, Jaime. It's a brave man who takes black in these perilous times" Tyrion pleaded.

"Ser Jaime." Brienne whispered, and Jaime turned to her.

For a moment Brienne looked disoriented, for she has not intended her words to come out loud. It is then Tyrion knew he has lost his fight. Jaime is going to do the unthinkable, and give in to Sansa's demands.

"I was kind to you in kingslanding. I protected you." Tyrion spat at Sansa angrily.

"I am grateful, my lord, for the basic human decency you shew. Are you expecting a reward for such?" Sansa said coolly.

Tyrion is struck again by the similarity in her words and his fathers. It's a deja vu of worst kind. Is this my punishment for being a kinslayer? He wondered but he let the thoughts go.

"I ask you to give us the same curtesy, your grace." Tyrion ploughed on, despite knowing it is not the same.

"Perhaps, Lord Tyrion, you can enlighten as to the decent punishment for pushing littleboys out of windows. I am sure had I done the same, I would have lost my head." Sansa said just as coolly, sharing a glance with Sandor. For he is probably the only one who can see the irony, for he is the one who stopped from pushing jeofferey out of the window.

"The black. The black will be fitting, your grace." Tyrion added on.

"Nightswatch is the last chance for those men who have no other avenue to redeem themselves, my lord. I will thank you to not degrade the service of brave black brothers to a punishment." Sansa said coldly.

Tyrion looked chastised. He was too desperate in his words. He has forgotten Sansa Stark is not the little girl she once was, worse yet, he has forgotten she can match him word for word if need be.

Jaime did not turn from starks even as Sansa and Tyrion were arguing.

He stared fixedly at the Starks, the crippled boy, the little warrior, the lady knight, the boy who started a war for his father, the boy who did not break under the pressure of monumental task he is given. He had always been proud of being a Lannister. It is the name for which his father killed half the realm, his sister is making plans to kill the rest. Till Sansa has called him out, he hadn't even realized he has been hiding behind the name. Tywin buried him in that Lannister mask, Cersei forged it into something indistinguishable from his own face. He had no idea if there is anything to him under all that glitter.

Yet, he has to find out. Sansa Stark is correct, night's watch is cowards way out. If nothing else, he wanted to redeem himself in the eyes of Brienne. Brienne, who travelled breadth and length of the realm on the off chance to be able to keep her oath. She kept it, finally, for she believed she can.

"I accept your demands, Your grace." Jaime said before Tyrion could come up with another idea.

The starks all turned to Jaime, but he held himself steadily. This is nothing less than he deserves.

Tyrion kept pleading with him to change his mind, Jaime ignored him.

The starks nodded to Jaime, and gestured him towards the heart tree's face.

Robb and Jon left with their entourages, Only Sansa and Bran remained for whatever followed.

When Jaime returned, he looked broken in a manner almost unrecognizable. It made Tyrion boil over to just look defeated mien of Jaime. Yet, it's Daenerys that concerned him more. Missandei, for her part informed everything that happened to the queen word to word. He is starting to realize more and more as long as Sansa Stark ruled, Daenerys will never be considered a better ruler. Might makes right only works for some time. At some point or other, they need more than might to keep kingdom together.

Before this day he thought Stark family could be split again, with Jon's love for Dany, Arya's love for Gendry. Today proved to him Stark children stand together. There will never be enough bad blood between them to be taken advantage of. They need another Bolton, but Sansa Stark is putting fear of wolves in every last ambitious little lord without spilling a drop of blood. She truly has come far from a pawn to player. King Robert was right, Tyrion mused. Children grow, whelp and gather an army. All of them forgotten it, but for Tywin Lannister and Robert Baratheon.

Meanwhile, he had a queen who has the mood swings of a teenager going through puberty, and restraint of a five year old in sweet shop. On the top of that, Sansa Stark kept on placing the stones in her hands. Tyrion knew varys and his combined efforts did not convince the dragon queen of significance or importance of not stripping a man of his name. She thought it too mild a punishment for Jaimes crimes. Worse yet, she thought Sansa stripped Jaime of his name. As they continued explaining nuances, it only became apparent she is not going to understand it, because she did not care to understand it in the first place.

It is then Tyrion remembered. She wanted to break the wheel. She wanted to remove the great houses, bring everyone to the same level save herself. Tyrion just was unable to understand the motives correctly, for he could never presume such a thing of stripping all noble houses of their power. Yet, that is what she did in mereen. That is the lesson she learned from mereen. You don't remove tail of a snake and leave it's claws in. His knees gave out when he finally realized what she meant. But surely, with Jon as her lover, him as her hand, surely she will not take such steps? Tyrion thought.

Even as he convinced himself this is only conjecture, he realized she most definitely will. She is ignorant, not stupid. She saw the world from a different perspective, and from her perspective, had there been no noble houses, her family would not have lost power in the first place. What is it she said? The noble houses and their tyranny will be no more. He realized for the first time, the words meant something far more destructive. Daenerys does not mean to remove the great houses, she means to remove the noble class all together.

͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘ ͚ ᾭ ▬ ● ◘

AN: I apologize for making the cut here, but it's too long, too shocking and gods.. This needs to get out. So, out it goes.


End file.
